


Everything You Need

by optimisticlesbian



Category: Rocky Series (Movies), Rocky V
Genre: Abortion, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Awkward Flirting, Childhood Trauma, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Crush at First Sight, Crushes, Cutting, Dark Past, Drug Addiction, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Female Jewish Character, Forced Prostitution, Friendship/Love, Heroin, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Jewish Character, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), Lesbian Character, Loss of Parent(s), Making Out, Minor Original Character(s), New Year's Kiss, Night Terrors, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Past Character Death, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Assault, Period-Typical Homophobia, Secret Relationship, Self-Harm, Strong Female Characters, Teen Angst, Teen Pregnancy, Teen Romance, Underage Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2019-09-16 20:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16961124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/optimisticlesbian/pseuds/optimisticlesbian
Summary: Natalie Goldmill has lost everything. Her mother, her grandfather, and lastly, her grandmother. Life has thrown punch after punch at her, and when her grandmother passes away in a car crash, she decides, once and for all, that she's had enough. She'd rather die than end up in a ratty foster care home where she'd be horribly treated and perceived as scum. Natalie has absolutely no idea where her life will be going, but she knows one thing for certain: Her future doesn't look all spotless and shiny.That is, until a certain Italian comes along. Rocky Balboa, the Italian Stallion, the man Natalie's grandfather trained all those years ago. Her grandmother appointed him legal guardian in her will (it's this whole big thing, according to Natalie), and she's been placed into the care of his family. Needless to say, there are twists, turns, and countless surprises, but in the end, Natalie comes to an important revelation: Everything she needs is right here in front of her.





	1. The Beginning

God, I’m exhausted. 

That was the only thing going through Natalie Goldmill’s mind as she wrapped herself up in a blanket from one of the paramedics, staring off into the distance with the sharp, intelligent blue eyes that she had gotten from her grandfather. She pulled her knees up to her chest as she stared blankly at the cluster of paramedics before her, swallowing the spit accumulating in her mouth. 

Natalie glanced at her watch, squinting to see the time. 10:37 PM. 

Man, it was earlier than she thought, way earlier. Natalie and her grandmother had been driving when her grandmother dozed off at the wheel, veering off the road and crashing into the sidewalk. Coincidentally, her grandmother woke up the moment before they crashed, and immediately began to yell at Natalie for Lord knows what. Even with a good chance of dying, she found the time and the energy to scream at the teenager, and Natalie couldn’t help but let out a dry, humourless chuckle. 

“Miz?” 

Natalie looked up, her glasses slipping off the bridge of her aquiline nose. Apparently, she’d been re-named ‘miz’, which she didn’t entirely mind. 

“Yeah?” she replied, furrowing her brow at the ruddy-faced paramedic. “The ambulance is ready for you,” he said, beckoning her forward, then holding out his hand. 

Natalie blinked. “Oh- oh, okay,” she stammered, slowly standing up. Her footing was tremulous and unsteady, and she started to tip over. 

“Woah, woah, woah,” a deep, slurred voice called, and before Natalie knew it, she had fallen into a pair of arms instead of collapsing onto the South Philly streets. “You alright?” the voice asked, and Natalie recognized it immediately. 

She looked up at the man holding her, her eyes wide and surprised. “Mr--Mr. Balboa?” the teenager stammered, drawing in a sharp breath as she stared at the tall Italian. Rocky nodded, and gave Natalie a lopsided grin. “You got a good memory, kid,” he replied, easing her back on the bench. Rocky turned around to look at the cluster of paramedics, firemen, and policemen surrounding the car. He looked back at Natalie for a moment, his lips slightly parted. “Natalie…” 

Rocky stood up, walking over to the cluster, a certain confidence in his stride. “Yo, what’s goin’ on?” he shouted, immediately drawing everyone’s attention to him. Considering he was arguably the most notorious person in the neighborhood, it was difficult to ignore him. 

“Car accident,” one of the paramedics nonchalantly called out. “We got a body, here.” 

“Well…” Rocky turned back to Natalie for a moment. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes were filled with concern. “Well, where’s she gonna go? Tell me,” he demanded, anger and fear bubbling up in his voice. 

“That’s up to social services, sir. If she ain’t got no other family, off to foster care she goes,” the paramedic replied, giving Rocky an apathetic shrug.”Will you let her get in the ambulance, now?” he demanded, an aggravated edge to his voice. 

“Come on, Miz, let’s get going,” another paramedic said, taking Natalie by the elbow. The ginger nodded silently, defeatedly, getting into the ambulance as an EMT shut the doors behind her. 

The ambulance drove off into the night, flashing lights and all.

Rocky sank down on the bench that Natalie had sat on just a moment before. He buried his face in his hands and let out a deep, defeated sigh, shaking his head. God, the poor girl was going to be thrown away into foster care and completely forgotten about… shit, she was just a kid, and she had to deal with this! Her future wasn’t going to go anywhere, was it? Not in foster care, it wasn’t...

“Sir, you alright?” one of the paramedic called towards Rocky, a genuine concern apparent in his features. The tall Italian closed his eyes, letting out a tremulous breath before standing up from his seat on the bench. 

Without giving a second glance to the chaos behind him, Rocky began to walk, thoughts of Natalie swirling through his mind. He felt absolutely powerless, not only that, but disgusted with himself. He had made a promise to Mick, all those years ago, to protect Natalie, and he had failed. ‘When I die, you protect her, and you protect her good. Don’t make me haunt you, now,’ Mickey had said, jabbing his finger in Rocky’s face. He had spoken those words countless times, and to this day, Rocky could remember them verbatim. 

Well, he was in for a few wide open cupboards and upside down crosses, because he certainly hadn’t done his goddamn job. 

The tall Italian violently shook his head. He had to stop dwelling on the past for a moment, he had a family to get back to, he had a certain brother in law to fetch from the bar. He’d worry about Natalie later, as much as he hated to do so.

“Come on Paulie, let’s go,” Rocky said, opening the door to the bar and roughly shaking his brother in law by the shoulder. The drunken man sluggishly shook his head and moaned something unintelligible to Rocky. Rocky let out a loud sigh, grabbing Paulie again. “I said let’s go, Paulie,” he snapped. Having to drag the balding man away from the bar night after night was getting tiresome for Rocky; doing that nearly every day for years was truly starting to get to him. 

Rocky was just about to give up, roll his eyes, and leave, making Paulie the bartender’s problem, when Paulie slowly got off the chair, taking another swig of beer before setting it down on the bar. “Alright, Rocko,” he mumbled drunkenly, tossing a ten dollar bill at the bartender before the duo walked out. Huh. Took a lot less effort than usual, Rocky silently mused. 

“Yo, uh…” Rocky momentarily paused, moistening his bottom lip as he debated saying something to Paulie. He doubted the stout, short tempered man would have anything to say, but… 

“You remember Natalie?” Rocky asked, lightly elbowing his counterpart in the side. “Natalie who?” Paulie asked nonchalantly, opening up his flask and taking a gulp. “Y’know, Natalie. Mick’s granddaughter,” Rocky replied, nudging Paulie again. “You gotta remember, now,” Rocky insisted, taking off his fedora. 

“Yeah, I remember. So?” Paulie sluggishly replied, screwing the cap back on his flask nonchalantly.

Rocky paused for a moment, unsure of what to say. Paulie glanced at his brother in law, arching an eyebrow inquisitively. “Rocko?”

“She… she was in a car accident,” Rocky mumbled, shoving his hands deeper inside his pockets after placing his fedora back on his head. “She made it, but, her granny didn’t,” he continued, letting out another tremulous breath as he continued to walk with his brother-in-law. 

“Old lady Goldmill? Ain’t nobody’s gonna miss her, Rocko,” Paulie said with a laugh. “Remember them two? Mickey and Evelyn and their world class screaming fights? You could hear ‘em in Jersey!” 

“Paulie, relax,” Rocky groaned. The last thing he wanted was to deal with another second of Paulie’s nonsense. 

Rocky opened the door to his home, ushering Paulie in. Adrian stood in the kitchen, drying off a dish before she placed it in the cupboard. “Yo, Adrian, we’re back,” Rocky said, taking off his fedora and coat and tossing them on a nearby chair. Paulie shuffled off back to the depths of hell, or wherever he came from, leaving the couple to themselves. 

“Was bringing him home much trouble?” Adrian asked quietly, turning around to face Rocky. The tall Italian silently shook his head, leaning against the table. “Adrian, do you remember Natalie?” he asked after a moment.

Adrian turned around, clasping her hands in front of her waist. “Yes, yes, I do. I always wondered what happened to her,” the brunette softly replied, beginning to wring her hands as her brow creased with worry. “Did something happen?” 

Rocky grimaced. “She was in a car accident. She made it, her granny didn’t. She’s goin’ into foster care, Adrian, I don’t wanna think about what’s gon’ happen to her in there…” 

The retired boxer’s voice trailed off. He ran a hand through his curls, letting out a deep sigh.

Adrian walked over to her husband, sighing softly she rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Rocky,” the brunette muttered as she slowly pulled away. “Poor girl. Lost her mother, then her grandfather, and now…” Adrian let out a tremulous breath. “Is there anything we can do?” the petite woman asked, tilting her head to the side. 

Rocky shrugged defeatedly, letting out another sigh as he leaned over, kissing Adrian on the forehead. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “I don’t know.” 

Rocky made his way downstairs, calling out “Kid?” as he stepped into the basement. Sure enough, Robert sat cross legged on the bed, gnawing on a pencil as he stared at the piece of paper before him. “Hey, dad,” the teenager deadpanned, setting the pencil and paper down on his nightstand. He was no longer the rail thin, naive, pale-faced thirteen year old that he had been when he first came to South Philly. He had become tougher in the past two years, yet he still hadn’t taken much of an interest in fighting. Art was what he loved, and that wasn’t going to change any time soon. 

“How you doin’, kid?” Rocky asked, plopping down next to his son and planting a soft kiss on the side of his head. Robert shrugged, giving his father a small smile. “I’m okay.” 

Rocky paused for a moment, unsure of how he should phrase his question. “Um..” Rocky moistened his bottom lip, looking away briefly. “You remember Natalie? Mick’s granddaughter?” he asked, running a hand through his curls. 

“Yeah, I go to school with her,” Robert casually replied, shifting his weight on his bed. “We talk every once in a while. Why?” 

Rocky suddenly pulled away from his son. “You do? Why didn’t you tell me?” the Italian said angrily, moving away from his son. 

Robert moistened his bottom lip, turning away from his father’s gaze. “I did, last year, but you were… busy.” Rocky immediately felt the tension in the air get thicker. Tommy Gunn was still a sore subject for the family, he had nearly torn Rocky and Robert’s relationship to shreds. Of course, it had been nearly a year since he went out of their lives, but the mere mention of him made Robert upset.

“Yo, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring nothin’ up,” Rocky said gently, putting a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder. Robert slowly shook his head, letting out a humourless chuckle. “That’s okay. Why’d you ask?” 

Once again, Rocky was unsure of what to say. It had been a habit for him lately, well, for the past couple years. Still, he had to find a way to muster up the words… 

“Natalie was in a car accident.” God, that must have been the third time he uttered those words in the past twenty minutes. Rocky could hardly understand it himself, he still thought of Natalie as a little girl, not a teenager, not someone who had just evaded death by the skin of her goddamn teeth. 

“She made it, don’t worry,” Rocky said reassuringly. “Mrs. Goldmill, on the other hand… not so lucky,” he said with a grimace, shaking his head and letting out a sigh. 

“Listen, kid, if you see her at school tomorrow, tell her ‘hello,’ give her our number, tell her if she needs somethin’, we’re here. Okay? Can you do that?” Rocky asked, clapping his son on the shoulder. 

Robert moistened his bottom lip, nodding as he briefly looked away from his father. “Yeah, I’ll do that, no problem.” 

“Yo, kid.” Rocky could practically sense what his son was thinking. Lightly hitting his son on the shoulder, he said, “Hey, come on, it ain’t like she’s gonna be living with us,” the tall Italian said with an uneasy laugh. “Just…tell her everything’s gonna be okay. Please? For me?” 

Robert nodded again, raking a hand through his hair with a small smile. “Okay.” 

Rocky gave his son another smile before planting a kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight,” he said softly, patting his son on the shoulder once more before walking upstairs to the room he shared with Adrian. 

The lights were already turned off, and Adrian had long since crawled into bed. Rocky laid next to the petite brunette, lazily removing his gray sweater and tossing it off to the side. He casually wrapped an arm around her, just as he had done so nearly every night for fifteen years. 

His mind would not let him rest. If there was an afterlife, Rocky was sure Mickey had put some sort of hex on him by now. No matter how illogical it was, Rocky couldn’t help but blame himself for Natalie being involved in a car accident, and he desperately wished that there was something he could do. 

Natalie’s grandmother had cut off all contact with the Balboas after Mick’s death. The woman had become a hermit, nobody had seen her in years. Natalie came and went, of course, according to people in the neighborhood, but her grandmother was practically off the grid. Rocky had heard countless rumors, including that Mrs. Goldmill had died and Natalie was somehow running a household herself. He found the idea completely egregious, of course, and couldn’t help but scoff at the mere thought of it.

“You alright?” 

Rocky nearly jumped in surprise before he realized that it was Adrian who had spoken. “Yeah, I’m okay, just thinkin’,” he muttered, moistening his bottom lip. 

“About Natalie?” the petite brunette said knowingly. 

“Yes,” Rocky muttered, turning around to face his wife. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen to her,” he said softly, letting out a tremulous breath before resting his cheek against his wife’s. 

“Oh, sweetheart, neither do I. All we can do is hope. You told Robert to tell her hello when he sees her again, right?” Adrian asked, giving her husband a gentle, comforting pat on the shoulder. 

“Yeah, you’re right, all we can do is hope. I told the kid to say ‘hi’, we’ll see what happens,” Rocky mumbled, planting a kiss on Adrian before he rolled over in bed, resting his head against his pillow before closing his eyes.

The tall Italian drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep after nearly another hour of meaningless pondering.


	2. Who She Was

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware this chapter is incredibly long, but nevertheless, I hope it's enjoyable :) 
> 
> \- TRIGGER WARNING FOR IMPLIED/REFERENCED UNDERAGE PROSTITUTION -

“Alright, Natalie, other than the gash, you’re perfectly fine!”

The doctor’s voice was unnecessarily jovial for the occasion, and the bright, beaming smile accompanied with it was equally unnecessary. Natalie shrugged nonchalantly, took a swig (yes, a swig) from the juice box she had been handed earlier. “Nice. Good to know the gash on my forehead and the lack of a safe place to stay are the only two things holdin’ me back from success,” the ginger remarked drily, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

Dr. Johnson, a thin, brown-skinned young woman, let out a hearty laugh, lightly hitting Natalie on the knee. “Oh, you’re such a joker. Social services should be here any minute now, dear.”

Natalie slowly nodded, letting the words sink in. “Right. Social services, goin’ to take me to some hellhole. Fun,” the sullen redhead muttered, running a hand through her hair.

“Oh, honey, don’t be like that. I’m sure your next of kin will take care of you, don’t worry,” Dr. Johnson said enthusiastically, patting Natalie on the shoulder.

Natalie arched a blood crusted eyebrow. “What next of kin? My pops was never around, my mama’s been dead for twelve years, my grandpa’s dead, my grandma’s dead, and I doubt I got any long lost aunts or uncles beggin’ to take care of me.”

Dr. Johnson stood there silently for a moment, unsure of what to say. The moment she opened her mouth to speak, Natalie heard a knock on the door, and before either of the two could respond, a short blonde woman opened the door and stepped into the room. She wore a painted-on, ruby red smile that was as fake as can be.

“Hello, Natalie, I’m Helen Mark, I’ll be taking you over to the Balboa residence tomorrow afternoon,” the woman said, moving slightly too close to Natalie’s hospital bed.

Mother of God. Natalie must’ve gotten a busted eardrum and a concussion to match, because there was no way in hell she had heard this lady correctly.

Goddamn. Balboas? She was going to live with them, of all people? It wasn’t like they were serial killers (well, at least Natalie hoped not), it was just that she didn’t know them all that well. She had heard about the entire fiasco with Tommy Gunn about a year ago, and she doubted the Balboas would take kindly to another stranger invading their space.

“Uh…” Natalie’s mouth went dry. “The…no, you ain’t gotta do that,” she said with a humourless chuckle and a forced, awkward grin.

“They’re now your legal guardians, Natalie. Your grandmother appointed them in her will,” Helen smoothly replied. Natalie didn’t bother to ask how she had gotten access to her grandmother’s will so quickly and easily, the thought never seemed to cross her mind.

“I…” Natalie was at a loss for words. Her hands began to shake and her mouth went drier than it already was. Her heart began to race, and she let out a tremulous breath, running a hand through her hair. “Okay, I… so, my granny’s dead,” Natalie stammered, moistening her bottom lip. Both the social worker and the doctor nodded in sync, neither of them placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

She was dead. Evelyn Goldmill, the one and only, was dead.

Natalie no longer had to tolerate her constant rage fits, her relentless insults, her hair-pulling and face scratching. She never had to lie through her teeth to every social worker that made their way over to the Goldmill household, ever again. She would never have to---

Before Natalie could finish that thought, she buried her face in her hands, bursting into tears. She felt every emotion on earth simultaneously, but oddly enough, she couldn’t pinpoint a single one.

Wait a minute. Shouldn’t she be crushed, depressed? Unable to go on, completely and utterly devastated?

She wasn't. She didn’t know how she felt, but she certainly wasn’t howling with unbridled grief over losing Granny Dearest.

For a moment, only a moment, guilt burned into Natalie’s soul.

But then, she remembered.

DECEMBER 27TH, 1989

“You know, honey, I feel pretty bad for you. Sellin’ yourself to get your granny cash ain't no way to celebrate your 13th birthday,” Marie said, vehemently sharpening her nails, a cigarette dangling out of her mouth. Her hair, a tousled, dirty blonde mess, was piled up on her head in something that could only be described as a rat’s nest.

“Uh-huh,” Natalie deadpanned, eyes wide open beneath thick glasses, back pressed against the brick wall, hands trembling uncontrollably. That was all she had managed to say ever since her grandmother nearly shoved her out the car, hollering at her to ask the nice lady at the wall what to do.

“So, you already know what to do, right?” Marie asked, stomping her cigarette out with her heel. Natalie opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get out a reply, she heard a yell.

“GET OFF MY PROPERTY!” the voice screamed. It belonged to a stout, short man sporting a fisherman’s hat and a filthy jacket, holding a baseball bat with both hands.

“Oh, honey, let’s go over to the Atomic Hoagie Shop, there’ll be customers there,” Marie said with a sluggish groan, grabbing Natalie by the arm. The man’s expression suddenly changed as he saw Natalie’s face, and he reached out to touch her on the sleeve.

“Yo, ain’t you--”

On impulse, before the man could finish his sentence, Natalie shut her eyes and let out a horrible, blood curdling scream that was loud enough to wake the dead. Immediately, she ran, nearly knocking over Marie as she sprinted away. After a minute or two, Natalie stopped, letting Marie catch up to her. The two were both out of breath, and Marie leaned against another brick wall, panting for nearly another minute.

“You know, honey, you better stop doin’ that,” Marie said, letting out another exhausted pant before she walked away with Natalie in tow, grabbing her by the elbow again.

DECEMBER 29TH, 1991 -

“You okay?” Dr. Johnson said softly, her voice smooth and silky. Natalie nodded, moistening her bottom lip and adjusting her glasses. “I’m good,” was her short, clipped reply.

“Alright, Natalie, I can tell that you’re exhausted, I’ll be leaving soon. Here’s my card, call in the morning. I assume you’re being kept overnight, is she being kept overnight?” Ms. Mark asked Dr. Johnson, arching her eyebrows inquisitively.

“Yes, she is,” the dark-skinned woman replied, nodding somberly.

“Alright, great. I’ll see you soon, then,” Ms. Mark said to Natalie, giving the ginger a small smile before exiting the room.

“Natalie, I’ll see you in the morning, hon. Here’s the remote control to the T.V if you’d like to watch anything. Goodnight, kiddo,” Dr. Johnson said, brightly smiling at Natalie before closing the door behind her.

Natalie let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding in before getting up to switch off the light.

Her hands were trembling as she climbed back into bed. No, scratch that. Natalie’s entire body was trembling as she laid her head on the pillow, and for just a moment, she was once again that innocent young girl, hanging out on a street corner waiting for someone to come by.

God, she just wanted to crawl into her own skin. Natalie shut her eyes, desperately trying to clear her mind of every thought she had before she finally drifted off to sleep. DECEMBER 30TH, 1991

Natalie sat in the backseat of Ms. Mark’s car, arms crossed, chin against chest, dozing off. Once they arrived in front of Natalie’s old house, the ginger woke with a start almost immediately. She lightly hit the side of her face to wake herself up, letting out a tired groan as she hopped out the car.

“Natalie, do you need this?” Ms. Mark said, tapping Natalie on the shoulder, holding out a garbage bag.

Natalie shook her head, letting out a sigh. “I ain’t got a lot of stuff, Ms. Mark. It’ll fit in my backpack with all my homework and school shit, uh, I mean, stuff,” the redhead stammered, not bothering to wait around for a response.

Jesus. What in the hell did Ms. Mark expect her to do, haul around a trash bag all day long until school ended? Natalie scoffed, shaking her head as she dug into the pocket of her worn out jeans. Inserting her key into the lock, she opened the door, stepping inside of the place she called home. She grabbed her backpack off of the floor.

If she closed her eyes, and thought hard enough, she could practically envision her grandmother lying in front of the television, half-asleep. Natalie would always try her hardest to sneak by her, to get in bed and go to sleep without hearing another complaint, but unfortunately, she always failed.

Letting out a sigh and shaking her head, Natalie walked into the bathroom, picking up her toothbrush, toothpaste, and hairbrush, carefully tucking them away in her backpack. She picked up a box of tampons, shoving them away in her bag before taking a look at the bathtub.

Natalie had spent countless hours lying in that tub. It had become some sort of safe space for the teenager, she could be alone with her own thoughts. Oh, lord, she remembered the time when her grandmother burst through the bathroom door, yelling at her about an unfinished chore, or some dumb raunchy magazine that she had found, Natalie couldn’t quite remember. Her grandmother had ended the rant with something along the lines of ‘You’re a horrible person,’ to which Natalie retorted, ‘At least I ain’t pimping my own granddaughter out for cash.’

Natalie had gotten a sharp pop to the back of the head for that. She didn’t regret a single word she said, and she couldn’t help but wear a giant grin for the rest of the week. People had asked why, of course, but it wasn’t as if she could tell them.

Jennifer (her mother) had died very young, only 20 years of age. Heroin overdose. Natalie had only been about three. Her father… her father could’ve been Tom Cruise, for all she knew. According to her grandmother, her parents had been in a relationship when Natalie was born, but he left about a year after. There was not a single thing to remember him by.

Natalie placed the picture into her backpack, opening the closet door. She spent the next ten minutes or so tiredly folding her clothes and packing them away, letting out an exhausted sigh when she was finally finished. Hauling her backpack over her shoulder, the sullen ginger walked out of her former home and never looked back.

She sharply rapped on the window of Ms. Mark’s car, making the petite blonde jump. Natalie hopped back into the car, raking a hand through her hair before crossing her legs.

“Well, that was fast,” Ms. Mark muttered with an awkward chuckle.

Natalie shrugged nonchalantly. “Told you I ain’t got a lot of stuff,” she replied, moistening her bottom lip as Ms. Mark started the engine.

“Natalie, what’s your favorite subject in school?” Ms. Mark abruptly asked, her thin, fragile voice cutting through the air. There was something about the blonde social worker that made Natalie uncomfortable, something that she couldn’t quite recognize or pinpoint.

“Uh, history,” Natalie deadpanned, lightly dragging her nails over her flesh, giving her something to do with her hands. “Oh, that’s great! When I was your age, I loved history,” the doll-like social worker replied, immediately going off on a tangent about her younger years. The woman’s high pitched, syrupy sweet voice made the car seem significantly more claustrophobic to the sullen ginger. Natalie did not pay attention to the petite woman’s nostalgic rambling, opting to stare out the window with her chin resting in her hand, letting out a few ‘mm-hm’s and ‘uh-huh’s every now and then.

“Alright, Miss Natalie, here’s your stop,” Ms. Mark jovially said, turning around to give Natalie a lipstick stained, slightly yellow grin. Natalie grimaced, giving the social worker a nod as she stepped out of the car. "Thanks for the ride, Ms. Mark,” the ginger deadpanned, hauling her backpack over her shoulders and closing the car door behind her. Before Natalie could, however, she heard Ms. Mark let out a small exclamation. Holding the door open, the blonde leaned forward, opening her mouth to speak. “Call me Helen, honey. When does your school get out?” Helen asked, innocently tilting her head to the side.

“Three,” Natalie nonchalantly replied, turning around once more. “Oh, wait a minute now, honey,” Helen called in that cloying, syrupy sweet voice of hers. She grabbed Natalie by the sleeve of her jean jacket. "I’ll be taking you over to the Balboas when you get out of school, okay? They’re eager for you, honey, so don’t you worry about anything, alright?” Helen said, patting Natalie on the arm as the ginger gave her a tight smile. "Right,” Natalie replied, slowly pulling away from her counterpart. Finally, she shut the car door behind her and walked into the school before Holly or whatever her name was could give the redhead another cutesy little anecdote.

Natalie didn’t make it two steps inside the school before her name was called by a familiar voice, a voice belonging to whom Natalie liked to describe as a disgrace to gingers: none other than Chickie Martin.

“Hey, Nat, tough break, huh, sweetie?” Chickie called, jogging over to his fellow redhead. “Heard all about it on the news. Ain’t nobody gonna miss your old lady’s old lady, if you get what I mean,” he said, giving Natalie his signature ‘tough guy’ smirk and an aggravating pop on the shoulder.

Hm. How bad would the consequences be if she popped him in the nose right here and now?

“Aw, you ain’t gonna talk to me? Hey, come on, say somethin’,” Chickie pleaded, giving Natalie another pop on the shoulder. The ginger clenched her jaw, balling her hands into fists. She itched to slap him in the mouth, give him a little lesson. Natalie was just about to teach the stout, ruddy faced teenager that you don’t mess with a Goldmill when Robert and Jewel showed up.

“Leave her alone, Chickie,” Robert deadpanned, casually shoving Chickie away as if it were part of his daily routine. By now, it probably was.

“Yeah, shut up,” Jewel chimed in, tightening her grip on her boyfriend’s hand. Natalie suppressed a laugh, Jewel barely came up to Natalie’s chin, what was she going to do to Chickie? Tear him a new one? Natalie doubted it.

“Uh, thanks,” Natalie hurriedly said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “For, uh, gettin’ him away from me,” she hastily added, quickly looking away from the duo. Natalie moistened her bottom lip, and for whatever reason, hot tears began to form in her eyes, fogging up her glasses.

“Hey, Nat, you okay?” Jewel softly asked, touching Natalie on the sleeve. The blonde was almost certainly the most touchy-feely person on Earth, which Natalie admittedly didn’t like. Times like these, however-- she needed the comfort.

“Oh, I’m okay. Uh...my granny died yesterday,” Natalie muttered, taking off her glasses and wiping her eyes. Jewel gasped, her hands immediately flying up to her face to cover her mouth. “Nat, I’m sorry,” the young girl said, taking Natalie in her arms. Natalie moistened her bottom lip, hesitating before returning the much-needed embrace. Letting out a tremulous breath, she momentarily rested her head on Jewel’s head before pulling away.

“Thanks, Jewel,” the redhead muttered, giving her counterpart an awkward grin. Jewel tilted her head to the side, pursing her lips before opening her mouth to speak. “Where you gonna live now? Got a place to go, or you sleepin’ rough?” the teenager asked, sounding genuinely concerned. Her brow was furrowed, and she was fiddling with the rosary on her neck.

“Well, uh… actually, I…” Natalie’s voice trailed off, and she locked eyes with Robert. She arched an eyebrow, giving the Italian an ‘are you gonna tell her?’ look. Robert blinked, moistening his bottom lip before turning to his girlfriend. “She’s gonna be staying with me, her grandma’s will said that, uh, my parents are her legal guardians now,” Robert said to Jewel, turning back to Natalie momentarily to give her a tight, obviously forced smile.

“Oh,” Jewel replied, looking Natalie up and down. She narrowed her eyes at the ginger standing before her. There was an unusually sharp look in her eyes, and Natalie couldn’t help but be a little surprised.

“Hey, he’s your boyfriend, Jewel,” Natalie responded with a shrug before the blonde had a chance to say anything. She didn’t need to be a genius to figure out what Jewel was thinking. Not my side of the fence, she thought to herself. It wasn’t as if she was going to say anything, of course, she couldn’t risk a gay bashing. Word went around quickly in South Philly, if she told someone she was gay, the entire tri state area would know within a half hour. Natalie was perfectly fine with relentlessly daydreaming about Drew Barrymore being her girlfriend.

Jewel gave a humorless smile. “You’re right.”

There was an awkward moment of silence as Jewel walked away.

“She cares, what can I say?” Natalie said with another awkward grin, flashing an equally awkward thumbs up. Robert grimaced in response. Jewel was usually a total sweetheart, but when it came to Robert-- she could be a little protective. “Yeah. See you, I guess,” Robert muttered, giving Natalie a feeble wave as he walked off to class, leaving her in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the hallway.

Natalie didn’t blame Robert for being distant. She knew all about the fiasco with Tommy Gunn last year. Hell, every person in Philly knew every detail of the whole thing! Natalie had heard all about the notorious Gunn. vs. Balboa Christmas street fight, but hadn’t seen it herself. She was… working.

Natalie distinctly remembered walking home that evening, about three in the morning or so. The streets were empty except for a stray dog or two. Natalie couldn’t stop shaking, due to the cold and due to the fear. There she was, all alone at three in the goddamned morning in one of the most dangerous parts of the city. Fear raced through her veins, it made her pulse feel like pure lightning, it made her heart pound in her chest until it hurt.

Tears had cascaded down her face that night. Natalie had never felt such a horrible feeling in her entire life, and she couldn’t pinpoint the reason why. She had done this more times than she could count, why was tonight so horrifically unbearable?

Then Natalie realized: It was the holiday season. Every other person was curled up in bed, happy, peaceful, loving, filled to the brim with joy. And then, there was Natalie: selling herself to get her grandmother cash, heels in one hand, mace in the other. Her mother would be disgusted with her.

That night, when Natalie finally got home, she scratched at her skin until she drew blood and screamed into her pillow until her throat ached and stung simultaneously.

She realized, that very day, that she was never going to be happy.

Someone brushing against her brought the ginger out of her thoughts. Natalie jumped, letting out a small gasp before tightening her grip on the straps of her backpack.

Immediately, she began to walk to her first class of the day, chills running up and down her spine.

3:05 PM

Natalie stood in the middle of the school yard, tapping her foot and checking her watch while she waited for Helen to show up and take her to the Balboa’s place. Considering she was being driven, and Robert was walking, she’d almost certainly get there before him. Just as she began to consider forgetting all about Helen and walking over with Robert, the social worker pulled up in her beat-up car and loudly honked.

“Well, that’s my cue,” Natalie said to no one in particular, raking a hand through her hair before walking towards the car.

“Hey, Nat!”

Jesus. Seemed like everybody wanted to talk to her these days.

“Yeah?” the redhead deadpanned, turning around to look at whoever was calling her name. Turned out to be none other than Robert Balboa himself.  

“Uh, you know where we live, right? 2843 Abernathy Street?” Robert asked, raising his eyebrows as he zipped up his coat. Natalie nodded, turning away from the short Italian. They did not speak another word to each other before Natalie got into the car.

“2843 Abernathy Street,” Natalie quietly said to Helen, who was sitting in the driver’s seat. Her hands gripped the wheel at a perfect ‘10 and 2’, and her unnervingly blue eyes stared off into the distance. She was focused, no doubt about it, and Natalie couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. Her grandmother had driven as erratically as humanly possible, so the social worker’s precise driving was undoubtedly a change for Natalie.

Speaking of her grandmother, Natalie didn’t know why she had suddenly broke down in tears at the thought of her. The woman had raised her alone since her grandfather Mickey had passed, maybe she deserved some of Natalie’s tears for that. Evelyn had fed Natalie, clothed her, and given her shelter (well, most nights), but Natalie could not remember a single time where she read the ginger a bedtime story, or helped her with her homework. ‘I love you’’s were only said three or four times a year, always with an empty stare and a deadpan tone.

Natalie violently shook her head, forcing the memories out of her mind. The car had stopped. Helen turned around to face Natalie, giving the ginger another ruby red grin. “Natalie, honey, it’s been a pleasure. Here, take my card again, it’s always good to have a duplicate, okay? I’ll see you soon,” the petite blonde smoothly said, having probably practiced the speech at least a hundred times. Natalie gave the social worker a wan smile and a toneless ‘thank you’ before stepping out of the car.  

Well. There she was. Right in front of where the Balboas lived. All she had to do was knock, and the Balboas would usher her in, scolding her for being out in the cold all alone. They’d be perfectly sweet to her, they wouldn’t pimp her out like her grandmother, they’d never assign her a single chore and she’d be living the posh lifestyle until the day she died.

Natalie scoffed, aware of how absolutely ridiculous the idea was. This wasn’t some dumb story, this was reality, and she had to face it. Maybe this was all some elaborate scam, and she’d open the door, and they’d laugh in her face, calling her every name under the sun before they shoved her away.

“Natalie?”

The voice, as familiar as it was, made Natalie flinch. Robert was standing next to her, holding his keys. He arched an eyebrow inquisitively at the redhead. “You wanna go in?” he asked, sounding bored and disinterested.

Natalie tried to match his tone, trying not to let on how nervous she was. “Yeah, I guess,” the redhead muttered, giving her dark haired counterpart a shrug.

“Alright,” Robert muttered, inserting his key into the door, pushing it open. Natalie hadn’t even gotten one foot in the door before she heard a voice.

“Yo, kid is that you?” a familiar voice called. It had more of a slur to it than Natalie remembered. She had briefly heard Rocky talk last night, but considering everything in the past 17 or so hours had been a blur, she couldn’t remember anything very well.

Her train of thought suddenly came to a stop as she heard someone call her name. “Yo, Natalie! How you doin’?” Rocky called, walking towards her with a massive, childish grin on his face. His wife (Natalie couldn’t remember her name) followed close by, her hands clasped in front of her waist and a tight smile plastered on her face.

“Hi, Mr. Balboa,” Natalie said, giving the tall, muscular Italian a stiff, awkward hug. Physical affection did not come easily to her, primarily because of her upbringing. She immediately tensed as he embraced her, and she had to fight back the urge to pull away from him.

“Hello, Natalie, it’s so good to see you again,” Rocky’s wife said, opening her arms to give Natalie another warm embrace. The petite brunette patted Natalie on the back before pulling away, the same tight smile plastered on her face.

“Ha, uh, you too, Mrs. Balboa,” Natalie stammered ought, tears suddenly brimming in her eyes. Natalie didn’t have a clue why, of course, but she knew one thing: If she kept on crying for unknown reasons, she was going to have a pretty big issue on her hands.

“Oh, sweetheart, please call me Adrian,” Rocky’s wife said, giving Natalie a pat on the arm. Jesus, did the woman have a ‘patting’ fetish or something? Was that even a word in the first place?

“And you can call me Rocky,” Rocky added jovially, bearing the same childish, idiotic, toothy grin that he had when Natalie first walked in. At least the guy’s consistent, Natalie thought to herself, forcing a small smile on her face.

“Yo, kid, show Natalie to where she’s stayin’, okay?” Rocky said, giving Robert a lighthearted punch on the shoulder. The small teenager listlessly nodded, muttering something along the lines of ‘come on’ to Natalie before making his way over to the staircase.

Natalie pressed her lips together in another awkward smile as she followed Robert downstairs into the basement.

“So, uh. Make yourself at home, I guess,” Robert mumbled, giving Natalie a small shrug, pointing towards the couch against the wall. Boxing memorabilia hung from the walls, along with a sentimental family picture here and there.

Natalie slowly set her backpack on the couch before letting out a long, tremulous breath. This was where she was going to live, this was her life now. The idea refused to settle in her mind, it didn’t sink in at all.

How long was she going to live like this? The next three years? Natalie couldn’t even fathom it, and she’d only been here for about ten minutes.

Natalie shrugged. Eh, she’d have to get comfortable at some point in time, wouldn’t she? She might as well start now and get down to doing her homework. There were equations to be solved, and vocabulary words to be learned, dammit. \- 8:07 PM 

“This spaghetti is real good, Adrian,” Natalie said with a smile, cutting a noodle in half with her fork.

“It’s rigatoni,” Robert deadpanned from his seat across from her.

Natalie’s face immediately began to burn with embarrassment, and she looked down at her plate. Idiot, now they’re going to think you’re stupid, she thought to herself, all sorts of scenarios immediately popping up in her mind.

“Oh, Robert, don’t, don’t tease her,” Adrian stammered, shooting her son a glare. “It’s Natalie, spaghetti,” Adrian said with a nod and a tight smile, blinking hard as she realized her mistake.

“Oh, I mean, it’s spaghetti, Natalie, I’m sorry,” the petite brunette said, awkwardly chuckling before her eyes averted themselves back to her plate.

Natalie nodded in acknowledgement as she began to eat again.

There was a brief pause before Natalie heard a door open-- well, more like she heard a loud crash, a familiar slurred yell, and a garbled, likely drunken scream all in the span of three seconds.

“One, two, three,” Robert muttered, rolling his eyes as he twirled his spaghetti around a fork. “Here they come.”

“‘Ello,” a voice shouted. It was oddly familiar, not as familiar as Mr. Balboa’s marble mouthed, drunken-sounding, barely comprehensible South Philly slur, but Natalie knew it from somewhere…

Natalie’s heart stopped as the owner of the voice entered the kitchen. It-- it was the guy, the man, the guy from two years ago with the baseball bat and the fisherman’s hat, the guy who had charged at Natalie and Marie, hollering that they had to get off his property. He was the same man who had grabbed her by the sleeve and asked her who she was, he was the same man that Natalie ran from, screaming and yelling bloody murder---

“Who’re you?”

Natalie blinked. The man had an eyebrow arched, and a hand clasped around a flask. The fisherman’s hat he had sported when Natalie saw him last was tightly placed around his head, and the foul, resentful attitude was clearly ever present.

“Uh, Natalie… Natalie Goldmill, Mickey’s granddaughter,” the ginger stammered out, trying not to let on how relieved she was that he didn’t recognize her.

“Why’d your mother name you that?” the man drily replied, stuffing a flask in the pocket of his jacket before shuffling off to the cesspool he crawled out of.

“Yo, I’m sorry about him, uh, I ain’t sure if you remember him, but, uh, that’s Paulie, Adrian’s brother. He ain’t in a talkin’ mood right now,” Rocky hurriedly explained with his signature childlike grin, making a variety of quick hand gestures as he pulled out a seat to sit down.

Natalie briefly nodded as she looked back down at her plate. Did he need to sit so close to her, was that his idea of being nice? She couldn’t help but shy away from him, pressing her lips together tightly.

“You know, your grandfather, he, he was my trainer, you know?” Rocky rambled, scooting even closer to Natalie until their knees nearly touched. Natalie immediately tensed up, drawing in a sharp breath.

“Woo, he could get real, real, nasty. Real nasty. You know, he, he’d always, uh…” Rocky trailed off, resting his chin in his hand, pausing momentarily. There was some sort of energy in his eyes that Natalie hadn’t seen.

“He, uh… he’d make me tie a string ‘round my ankles, ‘cause I ain’t got no balance, right? He says to me, Mick says to me--” Rocky moistened his bottom lip, pressing his hands together. “Rocky Marciano had the same problem, you ever heard of him?” Rocky asked, pointing his clasped hands toward Natalie. Natalie nodded. Of course I do, dim-wit, I got Mickey Goldmill as my grandpa, she thought to herself.

Rocky nodded, opening his mouth to speak.

“Well, I-”

“Natalie, how’d your mom die?” Robert abruptly interjected, leaning forward across the table as Natalie’s train of thought came to a screeching halt.

“Sweetheart, we’ve talked about this, don’t get personal,” Adrian said firmly, patting her son’s shoulder with a warning look. “I’m sorry, Natalie,” Adrian whispered, briefly glancing at the ginger.

“Listen to your mother,” Rocky added, gesturing at his son with a fork. He glanced at Natalie as well, but without an utterance of apology. It was almost as if he was telling Natalie not to answer Robert’s question, and to be frank, Natalie didn’t blame him one bit.

Still, she could tell Robert felt a little guilty over asking, and she didn’t want to be the one to upset him. Besides, he asked, didn’t he deserve an answer?

Well, on second thought, the truth would probably upset him even more than a brief reprimand from his parents.

Before she could think it through, Natalie opened her mouth to speak. She looked Robert dead in the eye. “Heroin overdose,” the ginger said crisply and evenly, not breaking eye contact for a second. Her jaw was slightly clenched, her hands were balled into fists underneath the table, and there was a certain hot, unpleasant feeling in her chest that she was all too familiar with: the feeling of being violated, the feeling of her dignity being torn to shreds.

Robert immediately recoiled, making a small choking noise. His eyes became a little wider, and his frame became a little smaller. He sat there in stunned silence for a moment before speaking.

“Sorry,” he muttered, not looking directly at Natalie. The entire room suddenly became incredibly, incredibly quiet. Natalie never knew silence could be so loud.

Natalie immediately regretted answering. It didn’t make her feel any better about herself as a human being, that was for sure. For a moment, she questioned her intentions, did she answer out of spite, did she answer because she wanted to? Maybe she should’ve just told him to fuck off and mind his own damn business. Besides, if she didn’t want to answer, nobody was holding a damn gun to her head, she didn’t have to upset herself, or him...

“I’m sorry if I upset you,” Natalie mumbled, letting out a small, nervous chuckle.

“Nah. I asked,” Robert deadpanned, his face completely devoid of expression.

Shit. If Mr. Salt-of-the-Earth, born and raised in the lap of luxury thought that was bad, wait until he heard about Natalie’s days as a prostitute. Now that would knock his socks off, wouldn’t it, Natalie thought to herself.

“Yo, uh…” Rocky paused, getting up from his chair along with his wife. “He asked, you know?” The tall Italian pushed his chair in with an awkward laugh as he made his way over to the sink, Adrian following closely behind.

“Oh, uh, can I help with the dishes?” Natalie asked, gazing up at the husband and wife. Rocky shook his head, making a ‘shoo’ motion with his hand. “Nah, you ain’t gotta help. You two,” he looked at Natalie, then at Robert. “Get to bed, you got a long day tomorrow. Gotta go to school and everythin’,” Rocky said, running a hand through his slightly disheveled black curls.

“Okay,” Natalie softly replied, getting up from her chair. She wasn’t used to being told what to do like this. Usually, instructions were shouted at her by Granny Dearest, she was never gently told what to do, she didn’t even dream about it.

“Goodnight, everyone,” Natalie said, forcing a smile on her face as she left the kitchen ‘Goodnight’s’ and ‘see you tomorrow’s’ followed closely behind her as she scurried downstairs and practically collapsed on the couch.

Wowie. Had there ever been a more a more awkward, uncomfortable, tension filled moment in the Balboa household? Natalie doubted it.

Natalie checked her watch. 8:38. She rarely, if ever, went to sleep this early. Dozing off around two or three was more her scene, but she doubted that would be A-OK with the Balboa family.

The ginger shook her head, ridding herself of every thought she had before pulling the scratchy quilt the Balboa’s provided her with over her chin. She’d wait until tomorrow to drive herself crazy and incessantly scold herself.


	3. Cherry Soda Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is incredibly long, but very important. I sincerely hope you enjoy it :) 
> 
> Thank you! - the author.

6:09 AM, DECEMBER 31ST, 1991

 

“Good morning, Philly,” Natalie muttered to herself, tearing off her quilt as her feet hit the cold, hard floor. Her eyes, still blurry with sleep, suddenly shot wide open. 

 

The ginger’s heart immediately started to race as she drew in a sharp breath. Where was she, what was going on? Natalie frantically looked around her as she grabbed her glasses, her lips parting as she tried to make sense of where she was. 

 

Natalie let out a sigh of relief as she saw Robert lying in his bed, an arm hanging off his bed. Suddenly, everything came back to her. 

 

She was alright, there was nothing to worry about for the time being. Natalie took in a sharp breath, balling up the fabric of her jeans in her hands, feeling her chest begin to tighten. 

 

There had been countless times when Natalie woke up in alleyways, crackhouses, roach-infested apartments, or sleazy motel rooms, barely able to think. The awful ache between her legs and the sour, bitter taste in her throat told her everything she needed to know about the night before. 

 

Natalie shuddered as she tried to push the memories out of her mind. A nice, good cup of joe was exactly what she needed.

 

The redhead walked up into the kitchen, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table and taking a seat. Tapping her fingers against the wood of the table, she let out a deep breath. 

 

What had she gotten up for in the first place? Coffee, right? Good ol’ cup of joe to calm her nerves, Natalie thought to herself, letting out a sigh. Well, she felt perfectly fine now, except for the God-awful caffeine headache that she had to nurse at some point in time. 

 

Natalie looked up to see Rocky tiredly stumbling over to the fridge. He opened it and peered inside, letting out a deep sigh. Natalie widened her eyes as the statuesque Italian removed an egg carton from the fridge, opened it, and started cracking eggs into a glass. She tilted her head to the side, slightly furrowing her brow. He hadn’t noticed her yet, had he?

 

Well, judging by the way he was chugging those raw eggs, he certainly hadn’t. 

 

Natalie tried to suppress a gagging noise, clamping her hand over her mouth as she looked away. She briefly contemplated ringing up Ms. Mark and telling her to get her the hell out of this joint, or maybe waking up Robert  and asking him where the nearest mental institution was. 

 

Before Natalie could make a decision, the tall Italian wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his sweater, giving Natalie a jovial, toothy grin. 

 

“It’s good for you,” Rocky explained, placing his glass in the sink before walking over to the table, pulling out a chair. The tall Italian grabbed a newspaper and began casually leafing through it. Natalie looked down at her lap, twiddling her thumbs. The air was filled with an awkward tension that likely wasn’t going to go away anytime soon.

 

“Uh…do you got a coffee machine?” Natalie asked after a moment, unsure of how to start a conversation.

 

Rocky looked a little taken aback, and frankly, Natalie didn’t blame him. Social interactions weren’t exactly her specialty in the first place, she had to admit. 

 

She didn’t know what Rocky expected out of her anyway. Maybe he expected a kind-hearted, impeccably mannered social butterfly that could talk your ear off, but if that’s what he bargained for, he was going to be extremely disappointed. 

 

“Yeah, we got a coffee machine. No, no, don’t get up, I’ll make it for you,” Rocky said, getting up from his seat. “You drink coffee a lot?” the tall Italian asked. 

 

Natalie nodded before she realized he couldn’t see her. Idiot.

 

“No more than the average American,” Natalie deadpanned, staring off into space. Dammit, what did he want with her? 

 

Natalie flinched as Rocky placed a cup of coffee in front of her, startled by the sudden noise. “Thank you,” the ginger muttered, staring blankly at the pool of dark liquid sloshing around. 

 

Rocky opened his mouth to speak, and Natalie struggled to refrain from rolling her eyes. Mercy, what did this brainless dago want to yap about now? 

 

“Last day of 1991, ain’t it?” Rocky said, leaning forward across the table.

 

Natalie’s eyes widened, she hadn’t really given much thought to it. Last day of 1991. Huh, maybe 1992 would go a little easier on her, it wouldn’t be as awful as the past fifteen years, Natalie mused, staring off into space. 

 

“You lookin’ forward to the new year? I sure am,” Rocky rambled, not bothering to wait for Natalie’s response. 

 

“You know, I tried to tell Adrian we should hold a little get-together, you know? Have a little party. But, you know how Adrian is, she’s sufferin’ from the disease of being shy. After all these years, still sufferin’, I think it’s terminal, don’t you?” Rocky joked, laughing like a little kid as he continued to ramble. 

 

“Ha. I mean, uh… guess she didn’t get her shots in time,” Natalie weakly offered, giving Rocky a wan smile as she took a sip of her coffee. Oh, sweet brown baby Jesus, take me now, the ginger thought to herself. I know I’m a Jew, but please, take me now. 

 

“You’re a funny one. You and I should get along good, real good,” Rocky said as the lights switched on. 

 

Natalie once again flinched at the sudden noise. Rocky’s wife stood in the doorway of the kitchen, a small, wan smile on her face. 

 

“Morning,” Adrian brightly said, making her way over to Rocky as she planted a kiss on her husband’s lips.

 

“Mornin’, Mrs. Balboa,” Natalie muttered, her mouth closing around the rim of her coffee cup. 

 

“Hello,” Adrian replied jovially, giving Natalie a pat on the shoulder as she opened the refrigerator. 

 

“Are you hungry?” the petite brunette asked, turning towards Natalie with a carton of milk in hand. Natalie was about to reply before her mind took a turn towards something significantly raunchier than eggs and bacon. 

 

Adrian’s nipples were pointing through the thin fabric of her nightgown. Natalie immediately began to blush, drawing in a sharp breath. She was not going to think about Adrian like that, she was not going to think about Adrian like that, she was not-- 

 

“Uh, well, I could eat,” Natalie stammered, immediately halting her train of thoughts. 

 

“Food, I could eat food. I could eat food,” Natalie hurriedly said, immediately tearing her gaze away from Adrian.

 

“Alright, Natalie, how do pancakes sound?” Adrian asked, not seeming to notice the way Natalie was looking at her.

 

Staring at the breasts of the wife of a two time heavyweight world champion was most certainly not the best idea. Natalie had a pillow to hump and a Drew Barrymore poster to look at while humping said pillow, she would be fine. 

 

Natalie squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, slowly letting it out as she tried to ignore the heat dancing across her skin. 

 

“Natalie, why don’t you you go to the basement and wake up the kid?” Rocky suggested. 

 

“We’ll have breakfast as a family, you know?” he said, giving Natalie a grin.

 

Ho-ho-ho, slow your roll there, pal. Natalie blinked hard. There wasn’t a chance he had just said--- 

 

“Yeah, sure, family breakfast, uh-huh,” Natalie deadpanned, making a beeline for the stairs before she could get herself in trouble by making some sort of sarcastic remark. 

 

“Family breakfast? Family breakfast my freckled ass,” Natalie muttered as she walked down the stairs, making her way over to Robert. 

 

“Rise and shine, darling,” Natalie sarcastically drawled, knocking on Robert’s forehead. The teenage boy let out a small groan of annoyance as he ran a hand through his hair. 

 

“What?” Robert muttered, not bothering to move. 

 

“Your dad wants us to have a ‘family breakfast’, whatever that means,” Natalie replied, placing her hands on her hips.

 

Silence. 

 

“Your mom’s makin’ pancakes,” Natalie deadpanned, nudging the barely awake teenager huddled under a pile of blankets. 

 

“Okay, okay,” Robert mumbled, throwing the covers off of his body. “I’m up, I’m up.”

 

“Huh, that was fast,” Natalie remarked, placing her hand on the stair rail. 

 

“Wait, Nat, you wore that yesterday,” Robert said pointedly, arching an eyebrow at the ginger. 

 

“And?” Natalie deadpanned, narrowing her eyes at the brown-haired, blurry eyed teenager.

 

Robert rolled his eyes as he casually slid out of bed, walking over to the stairs. He did not have to say another word to prove his point to Natalie. 

 

Natalie placed her hands back on her hips as she let out a scoff. Like she was going to take orders from some stupid, rich boy wop like him. Who the fuck was he? 

 

Okay, Natalie, enough with all the goddamn ethnic epithets. He’s right, wear something else. You ain’t changed out of this t-shirt in three days, the ginger thought to herself, letting out a deep sigh. 

 

Natalie walked up the stairs about ten minutes later, looking slightly more decent than she had shortly before. Violently raking a comb through one’s disheveled hair could apparently do wonders.

 

“You need any help with them pancakes, Mrs. Balboa?” Natalie asked, meekly walking over to the stove. 

 

“No, no, that’s alright,” Adrian replied with a small, nervous chuckle, giving Natalie a barely noticeable smile. 

 

“Natalie, do we have school today?” Robert asked, slouching down in his chair with his chin resting in his hand. 

 

“It’s New Years Eve, slow-poke,” Natalie deadpanned, rolling her eyes as she pulled out a chair. 

 

“Don’t be mean,” Robert said defensively, furrowing his brow at the surly ginger. “I was just askin’ a question.” 

 

“A dumb question,” Natalie replied with a snort, sneering at the boy sitting across from her. 

 

Robert shrugged, immediately returning to what seemed to be his favorite activity: Being a sullen little bitch.

 

“Natalie, you wanna watch the ball drop with us?” Rocky asked, walking over to the stove. He rested his hands on the opening bar of the oven, casually jutting his hip out. 

 

Natalie arched an eyebrow. “The, uh, the what? Huh?”

 

“Oh, uh…” Rocky quickly seemed to realize that Natalie didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. 

 

“In New York, there’s a, a ball that drops every new year. It’s fun. You wanna watch it with us?” the tall Italian asked, raising his eyebrows. 

 

Well, it wasn’t as if Natalie had anything better to do, did she? Then again, wallowing in her own self pity for the fifteenth new year in a row couldn’t be that bad…

 

“Um…”

 

Natalie snagged her bottom lip on her teeth as she slowly exhaled.

 

“Sure, I mean, I ain’t got much to do, so…” Natalie mumbled, twiddling her thumbs in her lap as she sat silently in her chair. 

 

“Excellent. Real, real, excellent. I’ll tell you now, we’re gon’ have a little get together, a little party,” Rocky rambled, an excited, childish smile that seemed to be planted on his face looking brighter than ever. 

 

“Oh, Rocky, who said anything about a party?” Adrian groaned exhaustedly, shoveling pancakes onto a nearby plate. 

 

“Sorry, Natalie, they’re a little burnt,” the petite brunette quickly explained before returning to her argument with her husband. 

 

“We’re not throwing a party, Rocky, we do that every year. This year, I’d like it to be a little quiet, just you, me, Paulie, and the kid,” Adrian said with a groan as she cast a glance towards Natalie. 

 

“And her, of course,” Adrian quietly added, almost as if Natalie’s existence was a mere afterthought to her. Natalie’s gut twisted uncomfortably as she took in a sharp breath. 

 

Perhaps she was being a bit oversensitive, but suddenly, she felt very, very small. Natalie’s chest tightened as she twiddled her thumbs in her lap, trying to swallow the bile that was accumulating in her throat. 

 

“We don’t even know if she’s Mick’s granddaughter, Rocky,” Adrian whispered, leaning forward and furrowing her brow. If she thought Natalie couldn’t hear her, oh, boy, the bitch was wrong. 

 

“Yeah, sure she is! Look, listen--” Rocky abruptly clapped his hands together as he turned to Natalie. 

 

“Yo, uh…” The tall Italian’s voice trailed off as he placed his hands on his hips, leaning back against the cluttered kitchen counter. 

 

“What’s, uh…. what do you call me?” Rocky asked, one side of his mouth lifting up into a crooked, uncomfortable looking grin. 

 

Natalie furrowed her brow in disbelief and confusion, shifting her weight in her chair as she chewed on her bottom lip.

 

“Uh.. Rocky?” the ginger replied, the confused twang in her voice growing slightly stronger as the tall Italian shook his head. 

 

“No, what I am. Like, like, what we are. You know, where we’re from. Our, uh…” Rocky’s mind scrambled to find the word he wanted to use. After a moment, he turned to his wife, looking at the small brunette expectantly. 

 

“Our ethnicity,” Adrian finished for her husband, smoothly sliding her arm around his with a tight, almost certainly fake smile plastered on her face. 

 

“Oh, uh, that’s easy,” Natalie said with a shrug, more than slightly annoyed at the overly inquisitive couple. “Eye-talian.” 

 

There was a complete silence in the Balboa household for a good fifteen seconds before Rocky spoke. 

 

“She’s Mick’s, Adri,” the tall Italian said, raising his eyebrows pointedly at his wife. Adrian briefly glanced at Natalie, tightly pressing her lips together in a doubtful grimace. 

 

Speaking of ‘Mick’, Natalie didn’t think of him nearly as often as she should. Mickey was, after all, the one who shielded her from Granny during drunken rages, the one who checked for monsters every night, the one who held her close, kissed the top of her head, and told her he loved her. Natalie was able to see a side of him nobody else had: The kind, loving, gentle Mickey was a far contrast from the perpetually enraged hardass that the entirety of South Philly knew him to be. 

 

To everyone else, he was an icon, a legend. To Natalie, he was just Grandpa. 

 

Natalie clenched her jaw, ignoring the aching pain in her mouth. He was also the one who abandoned her the second the opportunity for a better life showed up, she could never forget that. Mickey had moved in with Rocky about a year after his daughter passed, leaving Natalie to the wolves. He had abandoned her.

 

If Mick had stayed his ass in South Philly, Natalie wouldn’t have suffered at the hands of Granny Dearest as much as she did. She wouldn’t have been a prostitute. She wouldn’t have stumbled home night after night, thighs stained, throat sour-tasting and raw, stomach aching, heart pounding. She wouldn’t have spent a goddamn day being used---

 

Natalie shuddered, forcing herself to stop probing the possibilities of what could have been, to stop thinking of the past. She’d probably have to do it again at some point in time, as much as she hated to admit it.

 

It was just… her way of living.

 

º 

º

º 

 

The rest of the day went by like a blink of an eye. Nothing much had happened, Robert had given her a few dirty looks here and there, peppering them in every so often. In return, she had mouthed a couple ethnic epithets in his general direction whenever his back was turned to her. 

 

Natalie was just beginning to unfurl her middle finger again when Adrian trotted downstairs, her hands clasped tightly around her waist. 

 

“Natalie, can you help me put up the decorations for the party?” the petite woman asked, wiping her hands on her long, conversative skirt. Natalie blinked, moistening her bottom lip as she sat up in her chair. 

 

“You’re havin’ a party?” Natalie asked, furrowing her brow as she sat up in her chair. 

 

“Rocky managed to convince me, so yes, we’re havin’ a party. Startin’ it early, too,” Adrian explained, raising her eyebrows expectantly at the gaping ginger. 

 

“Uh, I’ll help, sure,” Natalie hurriedly said, getting up from her seat. The teenager’s glasses slid down her nose as she made her way towards the stairs, hot on Adrian’s heels. 

 

“Remind me not to let Paulie pour bourbon into the punch this year,” Adrian muttered as the duo walked into the kitchen. 

 

“The whole neighborhood got sloppy drunk when he did it last time, not a good way to ring in the new year, I know,” the brunette continued with an awkward laugh, lightly patting Natalie on the arm. 

 

The whole neighborhood got sloppy drunk? Natalie furrowed her brow. The only ‘sloppy’ Natalie got for New Year’s Eve 1990 was sloppy depressed. 

 

Adrian casually handed Natalie half of a banner, hanging her half on a nail firmly planted in the wall. The banner read ‘HAPPY NEW YEAR!’ in obnoxiously bright, glittery letters that looked more appropriate for a five year old’s birthday party, rather than a New Year’s celebration. 

 

Natalie pinned her half to the wall as well, looking over to Adrian for approval. In response, the small brunette gave her a tight smile. 

 

“Good job,” Adrian muttered, patting her on the back as she walked away. 

 

“I won an award for banner puttin’ up in third grade,” Natalie joked, a jovial grin making her freckled features significantly brighter. 

 

Adrian turned to her and let out a genuine, kind hearted laugh. It seemed like the older woman was beginning to warm up to the redheaded teenager very quickly. 

 

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she wanted the Balboas to like her. Well, except for Robert, of course, she didn’t give a rat’s ass what he thought about her. 

 

(Alright, well, maybe a little.)

 

If she wanted to stay here for a while, she’d have to get along with the family well, right? Dumb jokes seemed to be the pathway to their hearts, especially Rocky. She doubted the slow-witted Italian needed much to be happy. 

 

º 

º 

º 

 

“Now it’s a party,” Rocky proclaimed as people started filing in, tossing their jackets to the floor and letting out obnoxious shouts of ‘HEY, ROCK!’ 

 

Natalie’s stomach twisted painfully as she looked down at the floor. Being around so many people… so many men immediately put Natalie on edge.

 

Her heart started to pound as she analyzed the faces of the newcomers. Could they hurt her? Were they a threat to her? Did she know them? Did they know her? 

 

Natalie balled her hands into fists as her breathing turned shallow and quick. Her chest tightened up as she suddenly leapt from her seat on the couch and practically sprinted for the bathroom. 

 

Slamming the door shut behind her, the ginger sat on the ground, her back pressed against the door as worst case scenarios flew through her mind. Natalie hyperventilated uncontrollably, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. 

 

Natalie’s chest painfully heaved as she gripped the edge of the sink, hoisting herself up. She stared at her reflection, forcing herself to breathe a little more evenly. The ginger violently shook her head, swallowing the bile accumulating in her mouth. 

 

Natalie winced, pressing her lips together tightly. The painful, tight knot in her chest began to undo itself, and her hyperventilating slowly stopped. 

 

Her wrists began to itch. 

 

“Goddamnit,” Natalie spat, screwing her eyes shut. She sure as shit wasn’t going to go back out there and tap into her non-existent inner social butterfly, and she sure as shit couldn’t stand another minute within the enclosed bathroom. 

 

Her eyes drifted over to the razor placed on the bathroom sink. It seemed as if the small metal object was waiting expectantly for her, like some sort of sadistic ‘welcome home’ gift.

 

Before doubt could cloud her mind, the ginger grabbed the razor, pulled down the sleeve of her borrowed sweater, and made a cut. 

 

Natalie let out something between a guffaw and a shriek as the blade pierced her skin. Quickly, she put it back to its original place, breathing in and out as her free hand gripped the sink. 

 

The ginger forced herself to look at her reflection once more. God, she looked like a mess. 

 

Natalie forced an obnoxious, cartoonish, fake smile upon her face as she reached for a comb to brush her hair with. The ginger raked the brush through her hair, letting out a tremulous breath as she did so. 

 

Once she had deemed herself as presentable, Natalie threw open the door to the bathroom and promptly marched out, heading over to the kitchen to get herself a drink. 

 

It usually took a lot more for Natalie to have a panic attack. A nightmare, a flashback, her grandmother’s drunken rages. Not a crowd of dago brutes. Jesus, what was her problem--

 

Natalie stopped dead in her tracks, her breath immediately stolen away from her. Adrian was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of wine in her hand, sitting across a plain-faced, unruly haired woman around Adrian’s age. 

 

Next to them, however-- next to them was the most beautiful girl Natalie had ever seen. 

 

Her eyes, a beautiful, beautiful green twinkled with joy. Her hair, a lovely chocolate brown, cascaded down her back, and her smile gleamed with mischief. She was ethereal. Gorgeous. Stunning. Every positive word Natalie could think of.

 

“Natalie, I’m glad you’re here,” Adrian said jovially, placing her lipstick stained glass of wine down and guiding the ginger over to the table. 

 

“This is Angela, she’s your age,” Adrian said with a sticky sweet tone, patting the ginger on the back. 

 

Natalie blinked. Hard. 

“Hi, Natalie, I’m Angela,” the ethereal girl said warmly, stretching out her hand with a kind smile. 

 

“Wha-- oh, uh, hi, real nice to meet you,” Natalie replied after a moment, fitting her hand into Angela’s. Her mouth formed a childish, crooked grin as Angela smiled again. 

 

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Natalie,” Angela continued as she sat back down. Almost as if she were under a spell, Natalie blankly pulled out a chair, staring open mouthed at the gorgeous brunette. 

 

“I seen you at school a couple times, you’re always tellin’ Chickie to shove off,” Angela said with a shy giggle, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, he’s a real disgrace to gingers. As far as I’m concerned, he’s a strawberry blonde. Make him their problem, ha,” Natalie stammered out, her brain completely running on autopilot. Pretty girls tended to have that effect on her. 

 

“You’re funny,” Angela said, resting an elbow on the table. “I like that.” 

 

The statement was both simple and deadpan, but Natalie’s heart melted all the same. The brunette’s syrupy sweet South Philly drawl was making Natalie fall a little more in love by the minute.  

 

“Well, we’ll let you get to know each other,” Adrian said as she left the kitchen, probably to mingle with the guests. 

 

Ah. Adrian Balboa. Best unintentional wingwoman of the year. 

 

“So, I hear you’re ‘Mighty Mick’s’ granddaughter,” Angela said, crossing her ankles as she leaned back in her chair. 

 

Natalie’s heart sank as her hopes of having a decent conversation were dashed. 

 

Apparently, the change in her demeanor did not go unnoticed by Angela. The brunette leaned forward, giving Natalie an apologetic smile. 

 

“Sorry, you must have been hearin’ those words all night,” Angela muttered, pressing her lips together sheepishly. 

 

Natalie gasped, flinching in her seat as she leaned forward to place a comforting, reassuring hand on her brunette counterpart. 

 

“No, no, it’s okay. I ain’t even talked to anybody here,” Natalie stammered out, her eyes wide with alarm. If she fucked this up, she’d never forgive herself-- 

 

Angela giggled again, a sound that made Natalie grin like a little kid. “Oh, don’t worry ‘bout it,” the brunette said, patting Natalie on the arm. 

 

“Introvert?” Angela asked, tilting her head to the side. 

 

Natalie had no idea what that meant. She nodded. 

 

“Yeah, been one all my life,” the ginger replied, silently hoping that didn’t mean something horrible. 

 

“Well, I’m an extrovert, so we can, uh, balance each other out, eh?” Angela suggested, a barely perceptible smirk creeping onto her face. 

 

The green eyed brunette could have been speaking Ancient Greek for all Natalie knew. 

 

“Uh-huh,” Natalie said, scooting in a little closer towards Angela. That was as brave as she could get regarding the flirting department. 

 

Angela moistened her bottom lip as she looked the clueless ginger up and down, making heat pool down into Natalie’s stomach (and other places.)

 

“Natalie Goldmill,” Angela drawled, almost as if she were sounding out the ginger’s name. 

 

Natalie inquisitively arched an eyebrow, leaning forward. “What?” 

 

A smirk spread across Angela’s face. “Do you wanna dance?” 

 

 

“Yeah, I’d love to,” Natalie blurted out, momentarily forgetting that she had no idea how to dance.

 

“Oh, great. I hear they’re playin’ some real good stuff. But--” Angela leaned in again, almost if she were telling Natalie a sweet secret. 

 

“If we touch Mr. Balboa’s Carole King records, he’ll kill us,” the brunette muttered from the side of her mouth, giving Natalie a sly wink. 

 

Natalie let out a guffaw as she got up from her chair, closely following Angela with the shyness of a small schoolgirl. 

 

The moment Angela took Natalie by the hand and led her into the lively, fun-filled living room, a pang of fear suddenly struck her. She took in a sharp breath, making Angela turn around to face her. 

 

Natalie didn’t want anyone to think that she was...no, she didn’t want anyone to know who or what she was. 

 

Angela leaned in towards her, looking very concerned. 

 

“You okay?” the brunette softly asked, furrowing her brow. 

 

Natalie briskly, enthusiastically nodded, forcing a smile onto her face.  

 

Angela shook her head, slightly narrowing her eyes at the obviously uncomfortable ginger.

 

“Nah, you ain’t okay,” the brunette muttered, raising her eyebrows as she looked Natalie up and down. 

 

The ginger’s stomach churned with unease as she waited for Angela to say something. Anything. 

 

“Oh, you don’t want no one to know?” Angela finally said after what seemed like eons, lowering her voice to a tone that was barely above a whisper. 

 

Natalie blinked. “Know what?” 

 

Angela’s eyes suddenly shot wide open, and she jerked away from Natalie as if the ginger has given her some sort of painful shock. 

 

“I’m sorry, I’m real sorry, I thought-- well, you know what I thought,” Angela rambled, taking in a deep, tremulous breath. She muttered something inaudible about having to leave and straight people and their bullshit, turning away from Natalie. 

Oh. She thought Natalie was straight-- 

“Wait, no,” Natalie hurriedly called, grabbing Angela by the sleeve. “You got me right.” 

 

Angela blinked, a goofy, idiotic smile not unlike Mr. Balboa’s appearing on her face. “I got you right, eh?” she said. 

 

“Yeah, you got me,” Natalie said with a small chuckle, trying to ignore the giddy, eager heat blossoming within her chest. 

 

“And I don’t mind dancin’ with you, really. I don’t,” Natalie hurriedly explained, reaching out to awkwardly pat Angela on the shoulder. 

 

“Yeah, I mean, no one’s gonna see us dancin’ and say, oh, there go them two lesbians,” Angela replied, lowering her voice again with an awkward grin. 

 

“I mean, we are them two lesbians, but, they don’t gotta know--” Natalie let out a sigh of both exhaustion and relief, deciding that some words were better left unsaid. 

 

“So, uh, you still wanna dance?” Angela muttered suggestively, snaking her hand towards the small of the ginger’s back. 

 

Natalie grinned. “Yeah.” 

 

“Okay, so, uh…” Angela gently took Natalie’s hands in her own, entwining them together. 

 

Natalie’s heart skipped a beat.  

 

Living out fantasy of dancing with a real pretty girl? Check. 

 

Living out elaborate fantasy of threesome with Julia Roberts and Drew Barrymore? Not-check. 

 

Angela moved their entwined hands back and forth, her movements lovably awkward. She drew Natalie closer in with a small smile before letting out a guffaw. Shaking her head, the brunette leaned in towards Natalie and muttered:

 

“Do you know what you’re doin’? ‘Cause I don’t.” 

 

The uncomfortable knot of insecurity inside of Natalie’s chest began to loosen. She let out a small, barely audible chuckle of relief. Angela didn’t know what she was doing any more than Natalie did. They were a bunch of dumb lesbians attempting to dance on New Year’s Eve, there was nothing more to i--- okay. 

 

“I ain’t never danced before,” Natalie sheepishly admitted, rubbing the back of her neck as if she had something to be awful sorry about. 

 

“You and me both, Natalie, you and me both,” Angela drawled soothingly, casually slipping her tongue between her teeth.

 

The innocent, kind hearted grin made Natalie’s heart melt for what must have been the hundredth time since they met. 

 

“Hey, whaddya say…” Angela nonchalantly pulled Natalie in by the belt loops, pressing their bodies together. The sudden action sent a jolt of electricity up Natalie’s spine, and the devilish smirk accompanied with it sent another one.

 

“Whaddya say we get outta here, grab a couple of cherry sodas at the nearest corner store, and wait until midnight rolls around?” Angela whispered, tilting her head to the side as her gaze slowly drifted over Natalie.

 

That was it for Natalie. She was in love. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

º 

º

º 

 

Angela swung open the door of Howie’s Convenience Store, nonchalantly holding it open behind her. She gave Natalie a quick smile that made the shoddy, flickering lights of the corner store seem to burn a little brighter. 

 

“So, cherry soda, right? That’s your poison?” Angela inquired, grabbing Natalie by the hand and leading her over to the massive cooler smack dab in the middle of the store. 

 

“Yeah, never cared too much for the other stuff,” Natalie deadpanned, giving Angela a blasé shrug. 

 

Angela had just grabbed two soda cans when she tensed up, drawing in a sharp breath as she abruptly took hold of Natalie’s elbow. 

 

Natalie’s pulse began to quicken as Angela leaned towards her, whispering “Look behind you,” to the startled ginger. 

 

Natalie did as she was told, fear already beginning to brew within her gut. Worst case scenarios raced through her mind as she--- 

 

“Oh, it’s just Chickie, why you scared of him?” Natalie unwisely asked, just loud enough for the entire store to hear. Unfortunately, that included the stocky teenager that Natalie had ‘affectionately’ dubbed a ‘disgrace to gingers.’

 

“Hey, hey, Angela, you comin’ to pick up your tampons?” Chickie called, strolling over to the duo with a smug smirk planted on his ruddy face. Natalie had jizzed in her pants at the thought of smacking it off of him more times than she could count. 

 

“Funny, I was gonna ask you the same thing,” Angela deadpanned, sweeping past the ruddy faced teenager as if he were invisible. 

 

“You goin’ to a party? Jewel there?” Chickie questioned, clearly not getting the hint from the aggravated brunette. 

 

“You think Robert’s givin’ it to her good? Huh, you think Rocky Jr.’s got it goin’ on?” the stocky teenager obnoxiously insisted, wedging himself between Natalie and Angela. 

 

“Hey, we’re just tryin’ to get some sodas,” Angela mumbled tonelessly, slamming the soda cans onto the checkout counter. 

 

“And I’m just tryin’ to get some, if you know what I mean. Guy’s gotta eat.” 

 

Natalie’s heart dropped to her stomach, her hands beginning to shake. Unease and fear coursed through her like liquid heat. Her entire being felt like lead yet like nothing at all, and she so desperately wished she still had Angela’s soothing grip around her hand. 

 

“Hey, you’re upsettin’ the lady. Get outta here, man,” the cashier snarled at Chickie, making a ‘shoo’ motion with his hand. 

 

Chickie sneered resentfully. “Hey, you know how broads are--”

 

“Just get outta here before I call the fuzz,” the cashier snapped, sliding Angela’s change across the counter. “Here you go, miss.”

 

“Thank you,” Angela said quietly, taking Natalie by the arm again as the duo practically sprinted out of the suddenly sinister convenience store. 

 

“You okay?” Angela softly asked, placing a calming hand on the small of Natalie’s back. 

 

Natalie briskly nodded, holding back the tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She refused to let Angela see her cry. She couldn’t bear the thought of Angela seeing that--

 

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Angela whispered, and before Natalie could say another word, the tall brunette embraced her. 

 

Natalie paused for a brief moment, unsure of how to respond to Angela’s comforting hold. She shook her head, clearing her mind of any and all thoughts as she returned Angela’s hug, letting out a tremulous breath. 

 

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she needed it. 

 

“Feelin’ okay?” Angela asked after a minute or so, warmly patting Natalie on the back. 

 

“Real okay,” was Natalie’s mildly muffled response before she slowly pulled away from the kind hearted beauty. 

 

“I mean…” Angela’s soft, loving voice trailed off. “No one wants to deal wit’ him, really. He thinks he’s a hot-shot, but I ain’t gotta tell you that,” the brunette sardonically continued, patting Natalie on the back.

 

“‘Sides, I think you me and you could both go without that mental picture o’ Robert and Jewel,” Angela said with a laugh, lightly elbowing Natalie in the side as the duo walked along the sidewalk.

 

Natalie shuddered, suppressing the sudden urge to gag. “You’re right, I ain’t gotta think about that,” the ginger groaned with a roll of her eyes. 

 

Angela heartily chuckled, the light, ethereal sound echoing throughout the empty South Philly streets. 

 

It was the most beautiful thing Natalie had ever heard.

 

“You’re a funny one, you know that?” Angela said after a moment, turning to Natalie with a bright, jovial smile. 

 

Natalie awkwardly laughed, shying away from Angela so she wouldn’t see her furiously blushing underneath her winter hat.

 

Some time later, the duo made their way back to the Balboa house. 

 

“You think they know we left?” Angela asked, plopping down on the stairs leading up to the shoddy row home. 

 

“I dunno, maybe,” Natalie deadpanned, her hand tentatively reaching for the doorknob. 

 

Natalie paused. Frankly, going back into the obnoxious, unfathomably loud hustle and bustle of the Balboa household didn’t sound particularly fun. 

 

Come to think of it, she’d much rather sit out here with Angela, drinking cherry sodas and staring at the stars until the clock hit midnight. 

 

“You wanna sit out here?” Angela asked, almost as if she could read the hesitant ginger’s mind. 

 

Natalie jovially grinned. “Sure.” 

 

Natalie made her way over to the top of the stairs where Angela sat, carefully lowering herself next to the tall brunette.

 

“Pretty cold out here, huh?” Angela said after a moment, raising her cherry soda to her lips.

 

“Oh, yeah, it’s freezing,” Natalie replied with a laugh, hugging her knees to her chest. She gave Angela a grin as she grabbed her soda can, gesturing it towards the brunette in a ‘cheers’ motion. 

 

Angela playfully swatted her hand away, letting out another laugh. Natalie shrugged, popping open the tab of the soda can. 

 

“I’m sure this ice cold cherry soda will warm me up,” Natalie sarcastically drawled, lightly elbowing Angela in the side. 

 

“Yeah, nothing like a cherry soda to warm you up in freezin’ cold weather, am I right, or am I right?” Angela responded, taking a swig. 

 

There was a long, long pause between the two girls before Angela spoke. 

 

“So, Natalie,” she said, setting down her can of soda. She rested her elbows on her knees, leaning towards the fiery haired teenager. 

 

“Tell me everythin’ about you.” 

 

Natalie blinked, mildly taken back by the teenager’s brash, unexpected request of her. 

 

She blinked, her lips slightly parted in surprise. Angela clearly wasn’t one to mince words, that had been evident from the moment they met. 

 

Natalie was briefly lost for words, unable to think. 

 

“Well, uh…” The red haired teenager moistened her bottom lip thoughtfully before turning back to Angela.

“Well, my grandpa was Mighty Mick, but you know that, and, uh, my granny was about… twenty years younger than he was, and they had my mother when she was forty and he was sixty, somethin’ like that, I don’t know all the details. My mama had me when she was eighteen, but, but my father never stuck around, really. He hit the road when I turned one, and he ain’t never looked back,” Natalie rambled, suddenly breathless from her rant. 

 

“And, uh, my mother… she, y’know, died when I was three--” Natalie pushed past the lump beginning to form within her throat, averting her gaze away from Angela. 

 

“So, y’know, my granny and grandpa raised me. Grandpa treated me like one of his own. Everybody’d rag on him for it, no one thought of Mighty Mick Goldmill as the lovin’ type, but… he was my grandpa. And, y’know, I loved him a lot. But…” 

 

This was were shit got rough for Natalie. Sure, she could push past her mother’s death like it was nothin’, but when it came to her grandfather packing up and leaving…

 

“He left. I was maybe five or six, again, I don’t remember all the details, when he up and left to move in with the Italian Stallion,” Natalie continued, jerking her thumb towards the direction of the house behind them. 

 

“And… I was alone. Sure, I had my granny, but she wasn’t exactly about the whole knitting and baking cookies thing,” Natalie continued, giving Angela a half hearted, toneless laugh. 

 

More like the pimp out your granddaughter and beat up on her when you’re drunk kind of thing. 

 

“So, y’know how it is. I grew up, went to school, and pretty much lived off the radar ‘til now. Livin’ with a world class legend gets you a lot of attention, believe me,” Natalie said, intentionally leaving out the filthier parts of her life story.

 

Angela moistened her bottom lip, her gaze drifting over Natalie not unlike it had when they had first left. 

 

“Sounds like you’ve lived an interestin’ life, Natalie Goldmill,” Angela said after a moment, slowly nodding her head. Her eyes shone with emotions that Natalie could not pinpoint before she scooted closer to Natalie, her hand eventually finding a place on Natalie’s leg.

 

Electricity danced across Natalie’s skin, a sharp contrast to the ice cold air. 

 

Their eyes locked. Green to blue, blue to green. 

 

Robert threw open the door, practically tearing it off its hinges. “Come on, you guys, the countdown’s starting!” the teenager shouted, quickly darting back in to the house as fast as he came out. 

 

Oh, God. Natalie steeled herself. This was it.

 

“10!” 

 

The delirious, intoxicated yells of the party goers echoed throughout the empty South Philadelphia streets.

 

“9!” 

 

Nine seconds. Nine seconds to make a decision. 

 

“8!” 

 

Eight seconds. Eight seconds until their lips would meet, or eight seconds until Angela would walk away from her and her fairytale fantasy dream would be crushed. 

 

“7!”

 

Seven seconds. Angela. Angela was all Natalie could think about. Long, dark hair. Piercing green eyes. Jawline that could cut glass. The most beautiful girl in all of Philadelphia.

 

“6!” 

Natalie’s heart raced. This was it, make it or break it.

 

“5!” 

“4!” 

“3!” 

“2!” 

“1!”

…..

 

Natalie’s mind went blank. A surge of courage, a surge of lust, pulsated through her veins. Before she could stop herself, she leaned forward, took Angela’s face in her hands, and kissed her square on the mouth. 

 

Angela tasted of cherry soda and spearmint. Natalie had never tasted anything better, anything. Her hands tangled themselves in Angela’s beautiful brunette locks, pulling the teenager even closer.

 

It was a kiss full of passion. Of love. Of hopes, promises, and dreams. 

 

It was a beautiful, beautiful kiss. 

 

When they finally pulled away from each other, both panting heavily, flushed in the face, and sporting red tinged, kiss bruised lips, it was far past midnight. 

 

Which meant.. far past their ethereal, perfect moment. 

 

Angela smirked. “Natalie Goldmill, I like you,” she said matter of factly. “Come and find me sometime.” 

 

Angela got up, brushed herself off, and walked away. 

 

Natalie sat there for a moment, perfectly still and silent. 

 

“Please don’t let that be the last time I kiss you,” Natalie whispered, staring at Angela’s figure until she walked out of sight, into the empty void of the South Philly streets.


	4. Pet Store

**JANUARY 2ND, 1992, 8:02 AM**

 

 "I'm so damn tired, you got no idea," Robert groaned, groggily rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand. 

 

"Yeah, why we gotta go back to school the day after New Years? Don't make sense," Jewel mumbled in reply, resting her chin against Robert's denim clad shoulder. 

 

"Yeah, fat load of crap," Natalie muttered, hoping she was doing a good enough job of convincing the young couple that she gave a damn and a half. 

 

"Uh-huh, I bet Chickie's behind this somehow," Robert scoffed incredulously, pulling in Jewel a little closer at the mere mention of the brash redhead. 

 

Robert had always hated Chickie, right from the very beginning. Whether it was punching him cold in the mouth or leading him down a dark path that he nearly didn't return from, Chickie had never failed to be a problem for Robert. 

 

Then again, Robert  _ did _ steal Chickie's 'Chickette', or at least that was how Chickie saw things. He knew how to hold a grudge, that little… man- _ puttana _ .

 

'I broke it off 'cause I didn't like him, if he don't like that, too bad,' Jewel had told Robert when they first met, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. 

 

Jewel had been different then. Sure, she was spunky, a big, bright ball of energy that Robert just couldn't ignore. But, things had changed since they first met. She'd grown into a woman, really-- a far cry from the round faced, rosy cheeked thirteen year old she was when Robert first met her. 

 

"Yeah, uh-huh, whatever, Chickie's dumb," Natalie muttered absentmindedly, craning her neck as her eyes scanned the hallway for a particular brunette- one with gorgeous green eyes and a joyful smile. 

 

Angela. 

 

God, Natalie missed her, and it had only been a day. When she had woken up that morning, the taste of Angela danced across her tongue. 

 

_ Cherries,  _ Natalie thought to herself, a ghost of a smile appearing on her lips. 

 

"Hey, Natalie, you okay? You're lookin' thousands of miles away," Robert said, lightly nudging the inattentive ginger beside him. 

 

"Huh? Yeah, just tired," Natalie mumbled, still not bothering to spare Robert a glance. 

 

Robert inquisitively arched an eyebrow. "Lookin' for someone?" the teenager drawled, giving Natalie another insistent nudge. 

 

He paused. 

 

"Angela, maybe?" 

 

Natalie's heart lurched at the mention of the green-eyed beauty. She had spent the entire day yesterday thinking of Angela; not only of their kiss, but how beautiful she was. Inside and out. 

 

She was just...so  _ perfect.  _ It was hard to explain, really. It was like God had put every good thing in a jar, shaken it up some, and out came Angela. 

 

Robert's voice brought Natalie crashing back down to reality. 

 

"I mean, you left together, so I was just askin'," the teenager continued, letting out an awkward chuckle. 

 

Natalie pressed her lips together tightly, unease beginning to brew within her chest. Did Robert know anything? Shit, he had to know  _ something  _ if he was bringing it up to Natalie. 

 

Her heart lurched again as she opened her mouth to speak. 

 

"Yeah, we just went to get sodas, is all," Natalie muttered, purposefully avoiding Robert's gaze. If she looked him in the eye, he'd know that every word she uttered was bullshit. 

 

"Oh, that's cool. She's a nice girl, that Angela," Robert said, pretending not to notice how unwilling Natalie was to talk. 

 

Robert didn't necessarily blame her for not wanting to talk. He had seen how Natalie looked at Angela, and vice versa. He had his suspicions, of course, he had them since he moved to South Philly again. Christ, the girl practically had the word 'dyke' written across her forehead.

Natalie cleared her throat, tightening her grip around the straps of her backpack. The awkward tension in the air grew thicker and thicker as the moments passed by, until Natalie couldn't stand it. 

 

"Hey, I better get to class," the ginger muttered, suddenly tearing away from Robert and Jewel. 

 

As the ginger left the couple to themselves, she felt a sudden sharp tug on the sleeve of her jacket.

 

Natalie spun around on her heel, anger marring her features.  _ God,  _ she was up to  _ here _ with Chickie's bullshit--

 

The ginger stopped dead in her tracks. 

 

Angela (a.k.a most certainly not Chickie) stood in front of Natalie, smiling softly as she clasped her hands in front of her. 

 

"Hi," the brunette gently whispered, tucking a lock of chocolate brown hair behind her ear. Angela's face was flushed a bright pink from the relentlessly harsh South Philly cold, and a thick scarf was pulled up to her chin. A winter hat was tugged down to her ears, leaving her beautiful features barely visible. 

 

Still, as far as Natalie was concerned, Angela was the most gorgeous girl in all of Philadelphia. 

 

"Oh, uh, hi, Angela," Natalie stammered out after a prolonged silence. "How you doin'?" the ginger asked, making a weak attempt at nonchalance as she shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her jeans.

 

"I'm fine," Angela said in reply, reaching up to tighten her grip around the straps of her backpack. Her gaze drifted over Natalie's frame, causing chills of adrenaline to run up and down the ginger's spine. 

 

As quickly as the moment came, it was gone, leaving Natalie to wonder if the way Angela was looking at her was all her imagination. The ginger's heart raced with both intrigue and anticipation, unsure of what was to happen next.

 

Angela tilted her head to the side, giving Natalie a smirk as if nothing had ever happened. "Walk me to class?" she casually offered, holding out her arm for Natalie. 

 

Natalie was stunned silent, lips moving but words stubbornly refusing to leave them. It was stupid of her, she knew, stupid of her to be left breathless every time Angela spoke to her, or looked at her, or did anything at all. 

 

"Hey, you okay?" Angela asked, gently touching Natalie on the arm to get the ginger's attention. Her brow was furrowed as she nudged at the redhead. 

 

Electricity danced across Natalie's skin at the sudden physical contact. She snapped out of her daze with an overly eager nod and a bright grin, saying "Sure, I'll walk you," a little too loudly. 

 

Angela shrugged nonchalantly, linking her arm with Natalie's. "Alright," the brunette murmured as the duo began to walk. 

 

The silence between the two teenagers was practically deafening. Natalie yearned to say something, anything, just as she had the night of New Year's Eve. All she wanted was to fill the silence, to throw caution to the wind and just… say something. 

 

Angela spoke first,  _ thank God, _ the words leaving without effort from her red tinted lips. "So, how was your new years?" the brunette asked, smiling as she spoke. 

 

"Good, good. Boring," Natalie blurted out quickly, immediately pressing her lips together tightly. Natalie's eyes darted to Angela, giving her counterpart a tight smile, opting out of saying anything more. 

 

 _Fuck._ She was _totally_ going to embarrass herself. This whole 'stop-caring-and-say-whatever' thing was not going to work for her. 

 

"Oh, that's good." Angela's honeyed, high pitched voice made tingles run across Natalie's pale, freckled skin. God, everything about her was just so  _ pretty.  _

 

"I mean, sure, yeah," Angela scoffed as she continued, not seeming to notice how entranced Natalie was by her. The brunette shrugged her shoulders.

 

"The first few seconds were pretty damn good, don't get me wrong," Angela said, lowering her voice down to a gentle yet sultry whisper that made Natalie furiously blush.

 

"But it all kinda, y'know--" Angela clicked her tongue, slanting her hand to the side, "It all kinda went downhill from there," the teenager said, letting out an endearing chuckle. 

 

Natalie let out a breath, trying to ignore the heat blossoming in her chest. 

 

"Yeah, same here. Just spent all day doin' nothin'," Natalie said, her mouth twisting into an awkward smile as she pretended her pulse wasn't racing at the speed of the light. 

 

Well, technically, 'doin' nothin'," was only partially true. Natalie had stared at the ceiling all day, eyes wide open, lips moving but words not leaving them. Thoughts of Angela spun around in her mind, regardless of how hard Natalie tried to get rid of them. 

 

Which, truthfully, wasn't that hard.

 

"The best kind of days, am I right?" Angela replied with a grin, playfully nudging Natalie in the side again. 

 

"Yeah," Natalie replied, letting out a feeble chuckle in response. The increasingly awkward tension in the air seemed nearly cloying for the young ginger, and she was very nearly relieved when Angela abruptly stopped walking. 

 

"Well, this is my stop," the brunette said, her hand closing around the metal knob of the door that led to the classroom.

 

Natalie soberly nodded, her heart in her stomach as the realization that Angela was going to leave sank in.

 

God, she hadn't even left yet, and Natalie was already missing her like hell. The word 'pathetic' came to mind, immediately followed by the words 'dammit, Goldmill, get it together before she files a restraining order against you.'

 

Natalie must have looked as sad as she felt, because before the ginger knew it, Angela was slowly and tenderly running a finger across Natalie's jawline.

 

"Hey, I'll be back soon," Angela murmured, giving Natalie that soft, sweet smile that made her melt like a stick of butter in a hot pan, or ice cream on a summer day, or some stupid poetic bullshit that Robert would probably like.

 

Angela smirked. "See you later, Natalie Goldmill," the brunette drawled. 

 

Natalie blinked, moistening her bottom lip. God, her name had  _ never  _ sounded better. 

 

"I'll see you later, too, Angela…" Natalie's voice slowly trailed off as she realized that she had absolutely no clue what the brunette's last name was. 

 

Natalie's brow furrowed as she felt the painfully hot blush of embarrassment begin to stir in her chest.

 

_ Goldmill, when you fall in love with a girl, you oughta know her goddamn name,  _ Natalie thought, internally scolding herself. 

 

Thankfully, the ginger didn't have to feel like South Philly's biggest idiot for more than a couple seconds. 

 

"Moretti. Angela Maria Christina Lucia Moretti," Angela said with a smile, nodding her head. 

 

Natalie blinked, unsure of what to say in response. 'Woah, that's a lotta names?' 'Hey, I'll remember that next time?' 'Were your parents on meth when they named you?'

 

"I know, that's a lotta names," Angela said before Natalie could get a word out, playfully rolling her eyes. 

 

Natalie let out another feeble chuckle. "Guess your parents went all out, huh?" the ginger said, teetering back and forth on her heels. 

 

Angela shrugged. "Yeah, you could say that," the brunette replied with another smirk.  

 

Moistening her bottom lip, the dark haired teenager gave Natalie one last long look, the same one she had earlier. 

 

Tingles ran up and down Natalie's spine as she let out a tremulous breath. The way Angela had looked at her wasn't her imagination this time. It couldn't be. 

 

A feeling that Natalie still couldn't recognize began to brew within her chest as Angela waved goodbye, closing the door behind her and leaving the ginger to be with her own thoughts. 

 

Behind the closed door, Angela took a quick look around the classroom to make sure it was empty. 

 

Thankfully, it was. Always being early had its perks, sometimes. 

 

Letting out a tremulous breath of her own, the brunette slid down to the floor. Her back was pressed against the door to the classroom. Angela tangled her hands in her hair, squeezing her eyes shut. 

 

_ Fuck.  _ She couldn't keep up this 'ultra cool girl' image for much longer. 

 

Angela could hide the butterflies Natalie made her feel. She could hide the nervousness she felt, she could pretend the blue-eyed ginger didn't consume her every thought.

 

Angela could act so suave, and blasé, and act like she didn't have a single worry in the world, but she couldn't ignore the undeniable truth that had been haunting her since Natalie's eyes first met with hers:

 

She was falling in love.

 

**3:07 PM**

 

"Baby, I'm going to miss you so much," Robert whispered between kisses with Jewel, pulling the petite blonde even closer. 

 

"Yeah, me too," Jewel muttered, her fluorescent pink lipstick beginning to smear across both her and Robert's faces. 

 

Natalie tried not to gag at the face eating session before her, clamping her hand around her mouth and furrowing her brow. Jesus, was  _ that  _ what she looked like when she kissed Angela? She hoped to Jesus (despite being a Jew) that she didn't. 

 

"I love you," Robert said, his hands slowly sliding down Jewel's waist. The blonde let out a giggle, pulling in the dark haired teenager even closer. 

 

Natalie rolled her eyes, crossing her arms around her chest as she let out a deep sigh. The ginger had seen the two of them sucking face before, of course, but having a front row seat to it was a whole 'nother experience that she certainly didn't ask for. 

 

"Kids, am I right?" 

 

Natalie flinched, turning to the source of the sudden voice. 

 

Angela stood next to her, her arms nonchalantly crossed in front of her chest. She teetered back on forth on her heels in silence before shooting Natalie a grin.

 

Natalie looked down, letting out a laugh. The feeling she had earlier in the day returned, making her all… 

 

She couldn't even describe it, truth be told. Natalie knew that she liked Angela, the brunette had consumed her every thought since they first met, but she had  _ never  _ felt like this before, and-- 

 

"Hey, we're done," Robert said, fervently wiping Jewel's lipstick off his chin. He raised his eyebrows at the brunette and the ginger, asking the two girls, "Ready to go?" 

 

Natalie furrowed her brow, confusion apparent on her features. "Are we walkin' Angela home?" she asked, excitement beginning to bubble up within her chest. 

 

Angela furrowed her brow as well, spinning around on her heel to face Robert. 

 

"You didn't tell her?" the brunette said accusingly, making the dark haired teenager flinch. 

 

Robert shook his head raising up his hands in defense against the teenager's words. "No, I, I didn't think it-- it was important," the Italian stammered, letting out a nervous chuckle. 

 

"Shit," Angela sighed, rolling her eyes as she turned to face Natalie again. "I do everything around here," she mumbled. 

 

Angela slid an easy smile onto her face, as if she wasn't spitting venom at Robert moments earlier. 

 

"You're probably wondering what we're talkin' about, right?" Angela said, her smile now seeming a little sheepish. She teetered back and forth on her heels. 

 

Natalie let out an awkward chuckle before she nodded. Christ, were they going on some sort of secret mission?  _ Count me out,  _ Natalie thought to herself.

 

"You know the pet store on Front street, right?" Angela casually asked as the trio began to walk. 

 

Natalie nodded, hanging on to the brunette's every word. 

 

"Good, good. My mom, Gloria-- uh, she was at the party the other day, she owns the store, and, uh--" Angela clicked her tongue, pointing her finger towards Robert, "His mom works there. We go over there sometimes, after school, I mean, to help out and stuff," the brunette awkwardly explained. 

 

Natalie soberly nodded again. "Yeah, cool," she deadpanned. 

 

"They been friends for a while, my mom and Adrian. My mom was the maid of honor at her weddin' with ol' Rockhead--" Angela abruptly paused, shooting a glance at Robert.

 

"Sorry, Robert," the brunette muttered. Robert shrugged in response before Angela spoke again. 

 

"Yeah, they're good friends. You'll like it there," Angela said, letting out a small chuckle as the trio turned the corner. 

 

"Yeah, Ang, you only like it 'cause you flirt with every cute broad that comes in the store, you dyke," Robert drawled, throwing his arm around the brunette. 

 

Natalie's heart lurched at the mention of the slur. She grimaced, turning away from the duo before they could see her reaction. 

 

"Enough with all the 'dyke this, dyke that', man. What, you got a fetish or somethin'?" Angela shot back, poison dripping from her words. 

 

"Do I got a what? No, leave that to my Uncle Paulie. Ang, I ain't said nothin' bad to you," Robert said defensively, letting out a nervous chuckle. 

 

"Yeah, except call me a dyke. Now shut up." 

 

"Oh, come on, Ang. It's a term of endearment. You get to call me stupid, I get to call you a dyke," Robert said, sounding as condescending as humanly possible as he tried to justify himself to Angela. 

 

When that didn't work, the dark-haired teenage boy leaned back and poked hard at Natalie's shoulder. "Hey, what do you think?"

 

Natalie furrowed her brow, playing dumb as she tried to ignore the uncomfortable, burning feeling in her chest. 

 

"What do I think about what?" Natalie deadpanned, already knowing exactly what Robert meant. 

 

"Me callin' her a dyke, her callin' me stupid. It's a fair trade, Natalie, don't you think?" Robert said. 

 

Natalie bit back a few choice words of her own as she shook her head. "No, I don't think so," the ginger muttered. 

 

Robert shrugged nonchalantly at the ginger's response. "Still think it's a fair trade," the dark-haired teenager mumbled to himself. 

 

Natalie felt Angela's firm yet gentle grip on her arm, pulling her closer in. The ginger's heart skipped a beat, then two, as adrenaline coursed through her veins at Angela's touch. 

 

"Sorry 'bout that. He can be real dumb, I don't even know how Jewel puts up with him," Angela scoffed, rolling her eyes as the duo crossed the street. Robert trailed closely behind them, muttering to himself about something or the other. 

 

"Yeah, Jewel's real nice, though," Natalie said, giving Angela a bright smile. 

 

"Oh, yeah, she is. She is. Hey, you know how they first got together?" Angela asked, her voice lowering to a smooth whisper as her eyes briefly darted behind her. 

 

"Yeah," Natalie replied, moistening her bottom lip as she looked inquisitively at Angela. She couldn't help but wonder what the brunette was going to tell her. 

 

"Robert stole Jewel from Chickie, or Jewel left Chickie for Robert, right?" Natalie asked as she arched a single eyebrow.

 

"Yeah, exactly, and Chickie never really got over it," Angela confirmed, pursing her lips together as she shrugged her shoulders in a nonchalant gesture. 

 

"The guy's been doggin' Robert ever since. Beat him up, stole his lunch money, tried to get him into some  _ real  _ bad stuff," Angela quickly explained, drawing out the 'real' to emphasize her point. "Drugs, or somethin' like that. Hell, I don't even know," the brunette said with another shrug, one hand on Natalie's shoulder and one hand wrapped around the strap of her backpack. 

 

"Just last month, Chickie came up behind Jewel and smacked her ass so hard that it left a bruise. Robert got so mad that his eyes went all black, and I had to hold him back from punchin' Chickie right in the mouth," Angela said, shuddering as she recalled the memory.

 

Natalie nodded, letting out a deep sigh as she clicked her tongue. "That Chickie's no angel, that's for certain," the redhead said as she shook her head. 

 

"Hey, you know what I call him? A disgrace to gingers everywhere," Natalie joked, lightly nudging Angela in the side. 

 

She silently hoped the joke would elicit a laugh out of Angela, or at the very least, a chuckle. Thankfully, it did. Angela loudly laughed, clamping a hand over her mouth as she threw her head back. Natalie couldn't help but grin, those now all too familiar chills of adrenaline running up and down her spine. 

 

God, she wanted to kiss Angela so bad. So, so bad. 

 

"You're real funny, you know that?" Angela said, briefly winking at her ginger counterpart. Natalie blushed once again, turning away from the brunette so she wouldn't see. 

 

The butterflies swirling around within Natalie's stomach threatened to spill out from her lips and form themselves into words if the ginger opened her mouth. Natalie pressed her lips tightly together, choosing to look down at the filthy, stained concrete under her feet. 

 

"Oh, here we are," Angela suddenly said, gesturing at a large sign that said 'J&M TROPICAL FISH' in dark lettering. She opened the door to the pet shop, Natalie and Robert following closely behind. 

 

"Ma?" Angela called out, her hand falling away from Natalie's arm to remove her coat and backpack. She furrowed her brow as she looked around the store, craning her neck to see in the back. 

 

"Yeah?" a woman called out in reply, making her way to the front of the store. A headband was stretched across her forehead, holding back an unruly mane of brown hair. She was the same plain faced woman at the party, and apparently, Angela's mother. 

 

Shit. Angela must have gotten all her looks from her father, because--

 

"Natalie, come meet my mother, Gloria," Angela said, gently taking Natalie by the elbow again. 

 

The redhead forced a smile onto her face, awkwardly sticking out her hand for the older brunette to shake. God, she hated shit like this. 

 

"Hi, nice to meet you, Mrs. Moretti. I'm Natalie," the ginger said, fitting her hand into Gloria's. 

 

Gloria tilted her head to the side. She raised her eyebrows, making the lines in her forehead seem significantly more prominent. 

 

"Natalie Goldmill?" the older woman asked, a hopeful yet wary edge to her voice. 

 

Natalie slowly nodded, a tired smile beginning to form on her face. She knew all too well what was to come next. 

 

"Oh, you're Mighty Mick's granddaughter?" 

 

Natalie closed her eyes, forcing a smile onto her face as she nodded again. If she had a nickel for every time someone asked her that, she'd be lounging on a beach in Miami right now. 

 

Gloria thoughtfully nodded, turning to her daughter as she abruptly furrowed her brow. "Why didn't you tell me, Ang?" the older woman asked with a scoff, shaking her head condescendingly. 

 

Angela briefly glanced toward Natalie, almost as if she were asking what to do next. The ginger averted her gaze, unsure of what to do either. 

 

The teenage brunette languidly shrugged, muttering something about how she didn't think it mattered either way. 

 

Gloria scoffed again, jerking her thumb towards Natalie. "I got the granddaughter of a South Philly legend in my store, and you're tellin' me it don't matter? What are you, stupid?" the older woman shouted incredulously, almost as if Angela had told her something absolutely unbelievable. 

 

Natalie clenched her jaw, her eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. She hated seeing Angela get yelled at. She felt protectiveness stir within her chest, and before she could stop herself, she opened her mouth to speak. 

 

"She's right, Mrs. Moretti, it ain't too big a deal," Natalie said, her words clipped and short. She smoothed over her anger laced words with an award winning smile, clasping her hands in front of her. 

 

Gloria's eyes widened as she raised her hands in the air in defeat. "Alright, alright," she said. 

 

"I--" the unruly haired woman paused momentarily, craning her neck so she could see Robert.  

 

"Robert, what's the word for, uh, when you stop talkin'? Like, like, when you give up? Starts with a D?" Gloria asked, furrowing her brow in confusion.

 

Robert stood stock still in the background, forgotten and silent. He blinked hard, moistening his bottom lip before he spoke. 

 

"Oh, uh, digress," the dark haired teenager said, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. 

 

Gloria's hands fell back to her sides as she briskly nodded. "What he said," the middle aged woman grumbled before heading back to the store. 

 

The silence between the three teenagers hung thick in the air, painfully awkward and nearly cloying until Angela spoke. 

 

"So, Natalie, that was my mother," Angela said slowly, carefully enunciating every word. She let out something between a scoff and a laugh before tightly pressing her lips together and averting her gaze. Her eyes seemed glossy and a little darker than usual. 

 

Natalie briskly nodded in reply. "Yeah, I got that much," she muttered. 

 

Angela let out a deep, cleansing breath, her mouth twisting into an uneasy smile as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. 

 

Natalie couldn't help but feel bad. She didn't know why, since she hadn't necessarily done anything wrong.

 

 But...still. Angela had gotten yelled at because of her. Natalie bit her lip, guilt painfully bubbling up within her chest. 

 

"So, uh, we oughta go in the back," Robert said, slinging his backpack over his denim clad shoulder. 

 

"Yeah, I guess," Natalie muttered in reply. 

 

"I think my mom's back there, anyway," Robert said, turning back to the teenage duo and giving them both a tight, restrained smile before walking off. 

 

Natalie looked at Angela, who was staring blankly off into space. Her eyes, usually full of light, energy, and joy, were empty, dark, and slightly wet from the tears beginning to form. 

 

The ginger tentatively reached up, her hand gently taking place on Angela's shoulder. 

 

Angela smiled at the soft touch, the brunette's gaze drifting over Natalie's thin, lanky frame before she suddenly broke herself away from her ginger counterpart. 

 

"Uh, we should probably get to work," Angela mumbled, her eyes refusing to meet Natalie's as she shoved her hands in her pockets. 

 

Natalie's heart plummeted, confusion apparent on her features as she moistened her bottom lip. The redhead briefly wondered if she had done something wrong, unease brewing within her chest as her breathing quickened. 

 

"Can you, um, pick that up, please?" Angela deadpanned, gesturing at the box behind Natalie. 

 

Natalie swallowed past the lump in her throat that hadn't been there moments before and nodded, bending over to pick up the box. The redhead winced at the sharp pain coursing through her wrist, a harsh reminder of when she had cut herself at the New Year's party.

 

The ginger tightly pressed her lips together, letting out a tremulous breath. Natalie didn't even know why she cut in the first place, to be frank. She didn't know if it was a release, or because she felt she deserved it, or some sick, twisted hobby that she only dabbled in every so often. 

 

She did know one thing for certain. The first time Natalie cut was the day she first became a prostitute. 

 

**DECEMBER 27TH, 1989, 10:59 PM**

 

Natalie sat in the bath, an aching, burning pain brewing within her stomach and a God-awful headache that rendered her barely able to breath. The sickening feeling of self hatred coursed through her veins, eating away at her until she grabbed the razor blade on the edge of the bath, cut her wrist open, and watched blankly as the crimson liquid turned the water beneath her orange. 

 

The redhead was barely thirteen, but her innocence had long been stolen away from her since the day her mother died. 

 

Heroin overdose. 

 

In the bathroom of her father's gym. 

 

Alone. 

 

Natalie had some idea of how terrible and cruel the world could be, but she didn't truly understand until now. Until she was flat backing for some fifty year old guy that reeked of beer and sweat and called her by the name of 'Lily.'

 

Whoever that was. 

 

Led Zeppelin was blaring in the background, barely masking the sound of the man's animalistic, revolting grunts. The man pawed at Natalie's chest, burying his face in the pillow next to her as he suddenly began to sob. Natalie's stomach seized up in agony, silently praying it would be over soon as tears squeezed themselves out of her eyes. 

 

She made herself to look up at the ceiling as the man's hips forced themselves against hers, bound to leave bruises later.  _ Go to your happy place,  _ the fiery haired girl thought, repeating the words within her mind until they became her mantra.

 

_ Think about your third birthday with Mommy and Granny and Grandpa, think about all the pretty balloons, think about the cake, the frosting was blue, your favorite color, you got it from the bakery down the street, think about smearing cake on Mommy's face, think about her laughing and scooping you up and kissing you all over, don't think about her dead body slumped against the wall of Grandpa's gym--  _

 

**4:01 PM**

 

"Hey, Natalie, you okay? You were spacing out," Robert said, waving his hand in front of Natalie's face to get the ginger's attention. 

 

The redhead flinched, briskly nodding her head as she snapped back to reality hard enough to make her bones rattle. 

 

"Yeah," she lied, the non-truth rolling off Natalie's tongue so easily that it scared her. 

 

Robert grimaced before walking away from the ginger, clearly not believing her. He let out a loud sigh before leaving her be, almost as if he were trying to get her to feel guilty enough to tell him what was wrong. 

 

Natalie shrugged, letting out a loud sigh of her own. 

 

It was going to be a long day.

 

**8:47 PM**

 

"Natalie, Miss Gloria and I are headin' out now, okay? Robert too," Adrian called out from the doorway of the pet store, Gloria hot on her heels. 

 

The dark haired, dark eyed woman's cardigan made her look like some sort of shapeless gray blob. Natalie winced. She was no fashion expert, but she'd bummed enough Cosmopolitan from Jewel to know that was one daggone ugly sweater. 

 

"If you and Ang wanna stay here a little longer, that's okay, I'll swing by the gym and tell Rocky to walk you two girls home, alright?" Adrian said, her arms akimbo as her purse hung off her wrist.  

 

Natalie nodded, opening her mouth to speak before she felt someone beside her. 

 

Angela. 

 

"Oh, don't worry, Mrs. Balboa," Angela said in that syrupy sweet South Philly drawl that Natalie loved so dearly. 

 

"We'll be good," the brunette said, turning to Natalie with a bright smile plastered across her delicate, ethereal features. She arched an eyebrow, making Natalie's heart skip a beat. 

 

"Right?" 

 

Natalie quickly nodded, one simple word enough to make adrenaline pulsate through her veins, enough to make her heart race,  enough to make her feel all lightheaded and blushy and… well, kinda hot. 

 

Adrian smiled, clueless to the seemingly obvious teenage flirtation before her. "Okay, see you two girls soon. Get home safe," the older brunette said. 

 

Robert and Gloria waved goodbye as Adrian closed and locked the door behind her, the trio walking off into the empty void of the South Philly streets. 

 

Natalie let out a tremulous breath that she didn't know she'd been holding in, looking up at Angela for… shit, she didn't even know what. 

 

Angela looked at her expectantly, giving the ginger a gentle, soft smile. 

 

"So, uh…" Natalie began, silently hoping that she wouldn't make a complete idiot out of herself.  

 

Well, then again, that was a given. She was Natalie A. Goldmill, after all. She had a reputation to uphold as the biggest idiot in all of South Philly. 

 

"What do, um, your parents think? About you bein' gay?" the ginger said, leaning against the counter of the pet store as she tried (and failed miserably) to appear casual. 

 

Angela shrugged nonchalantly, hopping up onto the other side of the counter. "It ain't a big deal to 'em, really. My mom and I still hate each other," the brunette drawled, letting out a nervous chuckle. 

 

Natalie laughed, tucking a stray lock of red hair behind her ear as she crossed her ankles. "Yeah, I get that," she murmured, glancing down at her scuffed up sneakers. 

 

"They just tell me the same thing they tell my big brother, Anthony. Find a nice Italian girl to settle down with," Angela said, smirking as she rolled her eyes. She slid off from her place at the counter, taking slow, deliberate steps toward Natalie. 

 

There it was. That immediately recognizable rush of adrenaline that Natalie had become all too familiar with since her eyes first met with Angela's. 

 

"But...maybe I like the nice Jewish girls instead," Angela whispered, getting closer and closer until she was mere inches away from Natalie. 

 

Natalie arched an eyebrow, giving Angela a smirk of her own. "Who said I was nice?" 

 

And with that, Angela's lips crashed into Natalie's. 

 

Hands tangled with hair. Tongues explored mouths, hearts skipped beats. Bodies pressed themselves together, making both of the teenagers silently beg one another for more. More touching, more holding, more kissing like both of their lives depended on it.

 

Angela no longer tasted of cherries and mint, just as she had when Natalie first kissed her. It wasn't New Year's Day, and they weren't outside in the cold midnight air. 

 

But they were kissing again.

 

And that was good enough for Natalie.

 

Angela's hand was just beginning to finagle its way under Natalie's sweater before the two girls heard a knock on the door of the pet shop, forcing the teenagers away from each other. 

 

Natalie's lips stung and ached from the sudden loss of contact, making her draw in a sharp breath as Angela quickly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

 

Rocky stood behind the other side of the door to the pet shop, a fedora placed tightly on his head. His leather jacket clung to his broad shoulders, making the tall Italian look like an everyday, over-the-hill tough guy instead of the boxing legend he really was. 

 

Angela swung open the door, giving the dark haired man a tight smile. "I'll get my stuff," she deadpanned, heading over to the back of the store and leaving Natalie to make conversation with Rocky, or at least try. 

 

Rocky extravagantly bowed, taking off his fedora and quickly placing it back on his head. Natalie let out a painfully fake chuckle, not finding the Italian's antics any more funny than she did when they first met. 

 

"How you doin', Natalie?" Rocky said, shutting the door behind him before shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat. Rocky's cheeks were flushed a bright red, and his figure seemed a little more hunched over than usual. 

 

Natalie shrugged in response, turning around and craning her neck towards the back.  _ When is Angela gonna get her ass back out here?  _

 

"I'm okay, long day," the ginger muttered, giving the former boxer a tight smile before averting her gaze away from him again. 

 

Rocky hadn't really done anything to Natalie, but he still made her uncomfortable. Maybe it was because he was a man, or maybe because her grandfather had trained him in the past and it was strange to think about, but the redhead didn't like Rocky, not one bit.  

 

Well…that wasn't entirely true. Natalie did have a reason, an explanation as to why she disliked him so much. 

 

Mickey had left Natalie for Rocky, for a better life. He traded old, greasy wife beaters for sharp, clean cut suits and a run-down, old, filthy apartment for his own mansion within a mansion. He left Natalie all alone in the world, with no one but her alcoholic, certified nutcase grandmother as company. Mickey checked out of the hard-knock, South Philly street life, and never looked back no matter how hard Natalie tugged on his sleeve and begged him not to go. 

 

_ That  _ was why she didn't like Rocky. The old hatred and rage had long since been gone, washed away by nine hour baths and bottles of whiskey stolen from Granny Evelyn, replaced by annoyance and well hidden eye rolls. 

 

"Hey, Natalie, you ready?" Angela said, fiddling with her coat zipper as she gave her fiery haired counterpart a bright smile. 

 

Natalie nodded vigorously, grabbing her own jacket off the nearby hook she placed it on. She flashed Angela a quick smile, a silent acknowledgement of what had happened between them just mere moments before. 

 

Rocky clapped his hands together, holding out the door for the two girls. "Hop on out, ladies," the tall Italian said, awkwardly chuckling as the teenagers walked out of the store. 

 

The sudden rush of cold air made Natalie flinch, her eyes wide with surprise. She turned to Angela, who smirked and let out a small chuckle. 

 

"Cold, huh?" the brunette said teasingly, lightly nudging the ginger in the side. 

 

Natalie laughed in response, shoving her hands in the pockets of her jeans as she walked alongside Angela. 

 

God, she couldn't believe they kissed again. It felt like magic, really, like electricity replaced the very air she breathed. 

 

It wasn't much like the first kiss, Natalie had to admit. The first one felt so new, so unfamiliar.

 

 But…this kiss. 

 

This one felt like home. Familiar, soft, and warm. 

 

Even if Angela did have Natalie pressed up against the wall with her hand up her shirt. 

 

Natalie let out a small chuckle that went unnoticed by both Angela and Rocky. She moistened her bottom  lip again, tugging her winter hat even further over her head of red hair. The freezing night air made Natalie's freckled skin sting and ache simultaneously, causing the redhead to pitifully wince. 

 

Angela gently nudged the ginger in the side. The brunette arched an eyebrow, her lips firmly pressed together in a thin, straight line. 

 

"You alright?" the dark haired teenager asked, her tone soft and sweet and soothing, a sharp contrast from the unforgiving, angry tone she had used with Robert earlier in the day. 

 

Natalie nodded, a ghost of a smile playing upon her kiss-bruised lips. 

 

The redhead couldn't help but wonder. Was she the only person Angela was sweet on? 

 

Huh. That would be kinda wacky. Being the only person someone liked. Especially someone like Angela, who just...radiated sunshine and rainbows everywhere she went. 

 

Natalie slowly shook her head. God, she was just being dumb. 

 

However, Natalie assumed she was likely the only person Angela had made out with in the middle of her mother's pet store. But, then again, that was just a coin toss. 

 

The two teenagers said nothing else to one another for the rest of the walk, the harsh 'click-clack' of Rocky's shoes echoing throughout the empty streets. 

 

The trio stopped in front of a large brick building with boarded up wood in the place of windows. Angela let out a deep sigh, spinning around on her heel to face Natalie. 

 

"Guess I'm leavin'," the teenager muttered, rolling her eyes as she shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. 

 

Natalie's heart plummeted down to her stomach in disappointment, just as it had earlier that morning when Angela had left for class. God, no matter how much time she spent with the brunette, it just didn't feel like enough. The redhead always wanted something more.

 

Natalie swallowed the pain bubbling up within her throat, moistening her bottom lip. "See you Monday, then," the redhead said, an easy smile forming its way across her face. 

 

Yeah. She'd see her Monday. 

 

With one last beautiful smile that lit up Natalie's world, Angela closed the door with a wordless goodbye.  


End file.
